


The Most Beautiful Man in The World

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Bad Days, Clumsiness, F/M, Falling In Love, Human AU, Matchmaking, Murphy's Law, cursing, editors, graphic designer, slow burn were everything goes wrong, working for a magazine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-10 13:16:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13502298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: Marianne sees this man on the bus to work...the most beautiful man in the world...at least to her but every time she sees him she makes a fool of herself.





	1. Beautiful Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> I was given this as a prompt on tumblr but I can't remember who from!!  
> I had this horrible accident between a glass of water, which attacked one of my writing journals and messed up several pages where I had it written down. :(

Marianne yawned. She had been up all night, not doing work or anything remotely constructive, but instead she had been reading fanfiction on that damn movie she was obsessing over until four in the morning and now she was paying the price. She had showered and dressed, but decided to forgo makeup this morning, or half-way decent “work” clothes for comfort and speed instead, just wearing a pair of leggings and an old, faded yet comfortable sweater. Her job as a junior editor did not always require her to look presentable and so she took full advantage of that little perk on days like today, in which no meetings with staff were planned. The sweater she chose for today was so faded she wasn't even sure what color it was anymore. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she decided that the sweater wasn't even a real color at all now—it was the color of comfort and that was all she cared about. 

Marianne walked over to grab her shoes out of her closet, a pair of old ugly Uggs—again going for comfort—and her “Hello Kitty” backpack that her sister had given her last summer. She had a huge travel mug of hot black coffee and a poptart in her mouth that she had snagged at the last minute before running out the door to catch the bus. She dashed toward the main doors of her building and towards the doorman, an old guy named Brutus. He was a huge man, topping at well over six feet and built like a brick wall, imposing despite his age. He was bald, his head nice and shiny beneath his hat. He grinned at her, leaned over and held the door open when he saw her dashing out of the elevator. He grinned. “Running late again?” 

Marianne shrugged with a big grin around her poptart. 

His laughter followed her to the bus stop. Brutus was like a favored uncle; sweet, generous and always looking out for her. 

She made the bus—after running for her life—at the last possible minute jumping up the steps with her card out scanning and turning with a grin only to stop short as the sound of angels seemed to sound out of nowhere at the precise moment that the sunlight through the bus window shone down from the heavens, that gorgeous amber light dancing across his skin making him glow. 

Sitting in one of the seats was the most beautiful man Marianne had ever seen. He was sitting by himself next to the window reading a book, his glasses at the end of his long pointed nose. He was tall, perhaps taller than Brutus, which made her wonder how tall he would be if he stood up. She walked slowly down the bus aisle, her eyes never leaving his face, except to focus in on every detail of his person, honing in like a heat seeking missile! 

He wore a brown leather jacket, denim jeans, his legs crossed (for a moment she wondered how on earth he crossed his legs, they were so long!) and a red scarf wrapped around his neck. The man's dark hair was brushed back from his face except for one rebellious curl that had fallen across his forehead, begging to be brushed back. His beauty was completed by sharp cheek bones and a long sharp chin, a couple of slight scars that ran at an angle under his bottom lip and across his chin. Marianne had stopped in the aisle once she was in front of him, still staring, her poptart in her mouth, no makeup, her hair looking crazy, as if a couple of kittens had had a fight in her hair...and that was the moment he looked up at her over the top of his square-framed glasses with a pair of the most stunning blue eyes she had ever seen. Marianne stopped breathing. She couldn't move, she couldn't do anything but stare at this tall, gorgeous man like a deer caught in headlights, like a statue of the world's ugliest and least put-together woman in the world...like an idiot! 

Marianne bit through her poptart at that moment. Why this happened, she had no idea, but her stupid mouth clamped shut, snapping right through the poptart and the pastry fell to the floor of the bus making a nice thump on the dirty aisle floor. His eyes glanced from her face then down to the poptart that had fallen, shattering into four large pieces. 

Marianne stood there for a heartbeat, wondering if she could pretend there was no poptart...like maybe if she thought it hard enough that her until-now, heretofore unknown Jedi skills would kick in and erase his mind of this embarrassing incident. Then she could run home, make herself look human and try this again, but with more...put togetherness? Instead she made a little yelp, dropped to her knees to grab the remains of her poptart and rush to the back of the bus trying to use the old “if I don't see him he doesn't see me” trick as she stopped making eye contact to hopefully blend into the back of the bus. 

Oh shit, oh shit...Marianne muttered to herself throwing herself into an empty seat and hanging her head as she felt her cheeks, neck, and ears burn. She pulled her phone out so that she looked like she was actually doing something instead of embarrassing herself. She glanced up. He had gone back to reading his book. Oh hell, when did he start taking the bus?? Who was he? Why was he??! Where did he live?! And why was life so fucking unfair?! 

She spent the ride to work staring at the back of his gorgeous head. He wasn't what a lot of people would consider classically handsome, but there was just something about his features, the sharpness of his nose and cheeks, the length of his chin that she found wildly exotic. He had wonderfully shaped lips and those eyes! Marianne pressed her lips closed on her giggles, but those eyes—she grinned stupidly imagining what his eyes would look like all hot an steamy...she shook herself. No Marianne, no thinking like that right before work! 

From her back seat vantage point she watched every move he made, from reaching back to rub his neck—and boy did he have long fingers...long graceful fingers. Marianne's mind immediately headed toward the gutter at light speed and she had to force herself back from the edge of smutville...and then when he twisted his head to the side and cracked it! She almost made a ridiculous noise...a squeal of delight! UGH!! Why was that so sexy? She muttered to herself mentally. It was as if every movement he made sent her blood to boiling! Marianne pulled out her phone and her earbuds sticking them angrily into her ears and turned on the music. Madonna's “Beautiful Stranger” began to play. Marianne's eyes bugged. “What the fuck?” she mouthed silently. Even her music was conspiring against her! 

* 

A half-hour later the bus arrived at her work, a tall skyscraper in which the magazine she worked for was located. Working as junior editor for “Creative Lifestyles” magazine wasn't the most exciting job in the world, but she enjoyed her work, enjoyed her work environment and most of the people she worked for and with. And she liked the the magazine. Marianne stood up to get off the bus and noticed that the beautiful man stood up as well. She hung back a little, letting a few people into the aisle creating space between her and beautiful...just in case she lost control and either jumped him or somehow found a way to embarrass herself between here and getting off the bus. 

Anything was possible. 

The beautiful stranger was even taller than she had thought when she saw him standing in the aisle waiting his turn to exit. He was so lean too...Marianne leaned to the side to catch a glimpse of his legs in his slim cut pants. Meow. But then disaster struck. 

As she hurried off the bus, she received another kick in the gut. The most beautiful man—who she was trying not to watch, but was failing and watching his every move—seemed to be heading in the same direction as her. Marianne stopped in her tracks, her mouth hanging open as she watched him walk into the building that she was heading toward, the building that held the offices of her magazine “Creative Lifestyles.” 

The universe in its infinite cruelty was definitely punishing her. 

“NO!!” Marianne yelped out loud, at the same time her fisted hand leapt to her mouth to contain the shouted word that had already escaped, drawing the attention of dozens of other people on their way to work. She looked around, slowly lowering her hands from her face trying to smile, but her cheeks were red with embarrassment. “Why?” she thought, why was he going in there?! Maybe...maybe he was just going somewhere else. Other businesses were on lower floors in the building. Yeah, that had to be it...she couldn't think what for, but there had to be another reason. As the pit of doom opened up in her stomach, Marianne hung her head and hoped that the universe would have mercy on her and shrink her into nothingness...or at least make it so that she didn't run into him again today, especially when she looked like warmed over stale coffee. 

* 

The morning went by fairly quietly with work keeping her busy. She had a lot of work to do, which kept her mind occupied, her thoughts only drifting once or twice to thoughts of the man on the bus. But otherwise it was work, work, work. The area where Marianne worked was one whole floor dedicated to the editing staff of the magazine. There were large windows opened to let in sunlight and to allow everyone to look out over the city. The walls were white, but there was a variety of chalkboards, dry boards, posters, framed covers from the magazine and a wide assortment of odds and ends throughout the office spaces. The magazine believed in letting the creativity of their people flow. There were several desks, each with a small amount of privacy to a couple of partitions between them, but everyone had a large open space so that everyone could easily communicate with one another. 

Marianne had her own little cubical, her own desk and her own computer. She had a picture up of a Scottish castle, some purple butterflies made of paper, really elegant things that her sister had made and another poster of Wonder Woman. There were at least ten other people in her section of the office that surrounded her—all her fellow junior editors and all the people that she enjoyed working with every day. She was one of those lucky people who enjoyed coming in to work each day. 

She was in the middle of going over an article when she heard someone knock on her desk. “Hey Marianne!” 

She looked up to see Roland standing by her desk with a paid-for tan and perfect blonde hair and his perfectly tailored brown suit, which she knew he wore to specifically draw attention to his green eyes. Everything about Roland was designed to focus on Roland's good looks. Marianne had fallen for his “illusion” just as hard as everyone else, maybe harder since she had agreed to marry him...once upon a time. 

Marianne sighed, her gaze returning to her computer. “Roland, what do you want? Aren't you supposed to be pretending you're a journalist or something?” 

“Oh, you always are so funny buttercup. No, I'm here to see if you want to have lunch with me.” Roland flashed her his perfectly white smile, leaning his hip against her desk. 

Marianne sighed. “Roland, we are no longer engaged. I neither have the obligation nor the inclination to spend time with you. So the answer is no.” 

Roland frowned, then he pouted. She pressed her lips together trying her best not to laugh at him. He thought of himself as a good actor...and she had to guess that on one level he was because he had her fooled for a long time into thinking that he loved her, that they were going to get married and have a wonderful life together. That was until she caught him in bed with Alison from accounting. Now she knew that Roland didn't love her. Hell, he didn't love anyone but Roland. The only reason he had been with her was because her father owned this damn magazine. Which was why, despite everything, the ass kept trying to get Marianne to take him back...like that was going to happen. 

“Roland, go away before I'm forced to make you go away,” Marianne muttered with irritation creeping into her tone as she leaned forward and tried to focus on her work. Roland looked confused by her refusal. He looked confused every time she refused him. “But, I thought we would have lunch at that new little Thai place that just opened...” Roland started. 

Marianne sighed and turned to fully glare at him. “Roland, you know...if your brain exploded, I don't think it would even mess up your hair.” 

“Why thank you Buttercup!” Roland grinned at her which made Marianne literally face palm herself. 

Marianne heard someone behind her snort, trying not to laugh. She turned around to see the man from the bus. The most beautiful man in the world walked by having just stepped off the elevator. Marianne's eyes widened to the size of saucers as she watched his retreating back and stared down at his nice, tightly compact ass. She had to make a conscious effort not to lick her lips. What was he still doing in the building?! She also noticed that his jacket and scarf were missing...that meant he was going to be here for a while... 

She heard Roland mutter. “Oh god...him.” 

Marianne whipped back around to face Roland. “Him? Him who?” 

Roland had crossed his arms over his chest, still sitting on her desk. He indicated with his head the direction that the most beautiful man had gone. “Oh that new guy, Bog King. He was just hired by your Dad. Supposed to be some sort of new up and coming graphic designer or something like that. All I know is that he has a stupid accent, he's ugly and likes to use stupid words. Oh, and he is ugly. Did I mention that?” 

Marianne blinked long and hard. “He has an accent?! He works here?!” 

Roland looked at Marianne like she had grown a second head. “What? So? Who cares.” Roland made a dismissive wave with his hand. 

(At this point Marianne would not have been surprised if Roland had tried to flip his nonexistent long hair like an uppity cheerleader in a teen comedy.) “You sure I can't get you to have lunch with me. I'll even go dutch.” He grinned like he was offering her a treat. 

Marianne sighed. “Roland. Go. Now. Before I call security on you. Maybe HR too.” 

Roland stood up throwing his hands in the air. “Fine.” He walked off muttering. “I'll just go ask Nora. She likes to buy me lunch.” 

Marianne watched him go, rolling her eyes as she waited until Roland had gone around the corner before she turned back to her computer. She saved her work and quickly brought up the employee information page. Now, technically she wasn't supposed to be able to do this, but being the boss's daughter did have its perks, even if she was working her way up through the company. No special treatment...although...there were a few little things. Like accessing employee records. Yes, yes, she was being wicked, but this was the first time she had ever accessed the employee records...she just wanted to know where he lived. Clearly close to her, she reasoned, since he took the same bus into the city, but...she was just curious. What could be the harm? 

Marianne looked around to make sure no one was watching her, then she started to look through the list of recent hires until she found the name...King, Bog, graphic designer. 

Her eyes scanned the page swiftly, born in Scotland...whoa Marianne thought, that means he has a Scottish accent. She felt a little jittery before telling herself to calm the hell down...she went back to reading. Hmm...he came to the states in his twenties to study design. Oh nice internship and work record. He was thirty-three years old, so roughly six years older than her. Single! Marianne nearly pumped her fist into the air only barely stopping herself....never been married...no children...one dependent...his mother? Oh, how sweet! 

She clicked away from the employee site and with another quick look around to make sure no one was watching her, she started an internet search typing in Bog King. Marianne grinned. He had a Facebook page! She clicked on the site and giggled with delight when she saw he had a profile picture of himself. He was standing next to an extremely short, red headed older woman who—by the way the woman looked—Marianne would guess was his mother. He was wearing a grey and blue kilt with a grey tailored jacket that had lapels in the same tartan as the kilt. He was scowling in the picture which only made Marianne's heart beat a little faster. There were no other pictures of him, just examples of his graphic design work. 

Marianne did a little more internet searching and found his college page which had an older photo of him. His hair was longer in this picture, brushing his shoulders, the light scars on his chin weren't there yet... 

“So whatcha up to Marianne?” 

Marianne let out a yelp slamming the keys so hard on her computer keyboard that the whole thing slipped upward from under her fingers and knocked into her computer making a loud plastic smacking sound before the board started to slide off the desk. She barely grabbed it in time to slam it back down on the desk making another racket just as the mouse went flying off the desk. 

“Dang it!” Marianne yelped, leaning down to grab the mouse. She spun her chair around to glare at Plum. 

“What are you doing here?” Marianne snapped. 

Plum put her hands up, looking innocent with wide eyes. “What? I just came by to say hi and ask if you wanted to grab lunch together! Geez!” 

Marianne sighed, closed her eyes for a breath, then offered, “Sorry.” 

Plum chuckled. “Doing something you weren't supposed to?” 

“No. Maybe.” Marianne shrugged. 

Plum worked on the magazine as one of the writers; her articles usually covered the latest in wedding trends, from dresses to venues, everything the fashionable lifestyle-conscious bride needed to know. Plum was always the unofficial office matchmaker and Marianne's best friend. 

“Anyway, I thought you might want to have lunch with me and the triple threat,” Plum said taking a seat on the corner of Marianne's desk, just where Roland had been sitting only minutes earlier. 

“Where're you guys planning on going?” Marianne asked bringing her work back up and wrinkling her nose at the word document. The triple threat were actually triplets, sisters that all worked in the ad department. They could get anyone to buy ad space in the magazine, it was really pretty amazing to see. Plum and Marianne had determined that it was their magic gift. They were all three blondes, each with the ends of their hair dyed a different color, which was the only way anyone could tell them apart. 

“We were thinking of going to that new Thai place,” Plum explained inspecting her nails. 

“No,” Marianne said firmly. “Roland is going there,” Marianne said focusing back on her work. 

“Why don't you just get your father to fire him? I mean, I know your Dad hopes you two will make up, but I bet he would still fire Roland for you if you asked.” Plum frowned at Marianne as she tilted her head to the side. Marianne turned from her computer to face Plum again. 

“No. I mean he's a decent writer for a douchebag.” Marianne sighed. “I can handle him. Our personal quarrel is no reason for him to lose his job. Now a kick in the crotch, maybe, that would be fine.” Marianne smiled. 

“Speaking of men, have you seen the new guy?” Plum asked with a smile, but then her eyes lit up as she took in Marianne's expression. “Oh you have!” 

Marianne did her best to look nonchalant. “What new guy?” 

Plum smirked. “Oh, tall dark, strangely handsome with an accent...” 

“Nope, haven't seen him.” Marianne did her best to look aloof about the whole matter, but she had already given herself away to Plum. 

“Really?” Plum smiled then giggled. “I saw him and just had a feeling he would be your type, much more than Roland ever was, but you should let me introduce you.” 

“NO!” Marianne hopped up knocking her chair back which sent it spinning in a circle behind her. 

Plum laughed. “Okay, okay, just...don't wait too long. Don't want to miss your chance. And you never know, he might be the one.” Plum hopped up. “How about we have lunch at the noodle place?” 

Marianne nodded. “Sounds good.” 

* 

The rest of her day was the same as usual until five rolled around and it was time to head to the bus stop. The bus usually didn't arrive until 5:30, sometimes even as late as six, so Marianne gathered her stuff and headed down the elevator thinking to walk over to the coffee stand that was outside in the courtyard. 

She yawned running a hand through her short hair, which caused the brown locks to stick out every which way. She stretched and headed out of the building over to the coffee cart. The cart was owned by an adorable guy named Sunny Tekno. 

Sunny Tekno's coffee stand reminded Marianne a little of an old fashion store front. It was a large box with wrought-iron decorations at the top all painted a deep evergreen, with glass windows surrounding the entire booth. The style reminded Marianne of a old fashion newspaper stand except with pastries, coffee and cold drinks instead of magazines and newspapers. Sunny sold the best coffee anywhere...not just because his stand was closer than any other coffee place, but he was hands down the best barista around—and he roasted his own beans! He also sang while making coffee which drew all sorts of crowds. He had a great voice and he was adorable with his dark skin, freckles and long hair pulled back into a ponytail. Marianne had brought Dawn, her little sister, here one day when she had swung by after getting out of her college classes early. Dawn, a petite blonde with large blue eyes and a quick smile, had been smitten with Sunny ever since and Marianne was pretty sure Sunny was bitten by the lovebug in regards to her sister, because he asked about Dawn every time Marianne stopped by for coffee...without fail. Dawn had Marianne give him her number one day and while Dawn hadn't really said anything, Marianne knew that they were talking and texting each other...it was just that neither of them had taken that first step toward asking each other out. Hopefully that would happen soon. She liked Sunny a lot and he and her sister Dawn would be cute together. 

Marianne hurried over and stood in line when she looked up and realized the beautiful man was stranding right in front of her. She let out an audible gasped. “Oh shit!” 

The man (Bog, his name was Bog she told herself, not beautiful man...get a grip Marianne she told herself) turned around to look at her, cocking a brow at her over the top of his glasses. Marianne stared back, her mouth hanging open. Instead of replying, or smiling or anything, she just stood there, mouth open, catching flies as her mother would say. He smiled just a little (oh hell she thought, this close his eyes were even more blue than she thought! They were the most amazing shade of blue...blue...blue...yep...wow...blue...stupid brain! Stop that), before he turned back around. Marianne's mouth only then snapped closed. She stood there for a moment as the line moved one step then groaned inwardly. God, she looked like a fucking FISH with her mouth hanging open! He probably thought she was a few fries short of a happy meal. She pressed her lips together and focused all her energy on acting normal. She listened as he ordered his coffee, a smoked butterscotch latte. She detected a slight purr to his voice, a warmth like honey or melted chocolate in the way he spoke. Marianne felt a delightful ripple run up her spine as she watched him walk over to the bus stop, coffee in hand. He really was just beautiful she thought, the way he walked with those long lean legs, that long sharp nose...he had such a distinctive profile. She stood, glued to the spot watching him. 

Sunny frowned slightly, waiting for Marianne to step forward, but she hadn't moved a muscle, just watching his last customer as the man walked over to the bus stop. Sunny glanced over at the man then back at Marianne with a raised brow looking slightly confused. Sunny leaned out the window of the cart and waved his hand near Marianne. “Hey, Marianne. Marianne!” 

Marianne jumped a foot turning around to face Sunny. “WHAT?!” she yelled drawing the attention of everyone in line, a few people walking by and everyone over at the bus stop...including beautiful man....Bog...BOG damn it! Marianne screamed at herself inwardly, looking over to see him watching her before turning away. 

“Sorry Sunny.” Marianne grimaced. 

Sunny grinned. “You're distracted by someone tall, dark and new.” 

Marianne made a face. “No, I'm not.” 

Sunny snorted as a smile curled his lips. “So, what can I get you this evening? The usual white mocha?” 

Marianne blushed. “Ah...ah smoked butterscotch...please.” 

Sunny lifted a brow at her then glanced over at Bog, then back at her. “Okay. Hey, how's Dawn?” 

Marianne smiled glad to be on a topic that wasn't her. “Fine. When you gonna ask her out?” 

Sunny blushed. “I'm working up to it.” 

“You know she'll say yes.” Marianne said with a smile. 

Sunny blushed even brighter. “You think so?” 

“Yes. She talks about you all the time and I hear her giggling when you two are texting each other.” Marianne glanced over at Bog while she was speaking. He was sipping his coffee and had put his earbuds in. He was tapping his foot to some music he was listening to. Marianne wondered if he could dance. She had a feeling he could and that he was good at it. Then she started to think about him in a kilt, that picture of him online... 

“Marianne!” 

Marianne turned, snapping her head around. “What?” 

Sunny laughed. “You should go talk to that guy you keep staring at.” 

“I'm not staring,” Marianne protested. 

Sunny laughed shaking his head. “Okay, if you say so. You might want to run though...your bus is here.” He handed her coffee to her as he spoke. 

Marianne glanced over. Her bus was here and it was already loading. “SHIT!” Marianne yelped, grabbing her coffee and taking off at a run. She ran and hopped onto the bus before the driver could shut the doors, but at the last second, as she turned toward the aisle, her eyes immediately landed on Bog who was looking at her, his blue eyes staring right at her! He then did the cruelest thing he could have done to her—he SMILED! 

Marianne's foot caught on the edge of one of the front bus seats, which threw her forward right toward the floor. She reached out with her free hand, trying to grab hold of something, but her backpack, which she didn't have slung over her back, but instead had it slung over one shoulder, decided that it was time to make everything worse and slide down her arm. The sudden shift in weight threw Marianne off balance and she landed hard on the floor, first her knees, then her elbows, and next her coffee went flying forward. The top popped right off, the coffee flying back at her and erupting down the aisle like Mt. Vesuvius, hot brown liquid going everywhere. 

Marianne laid there. She wanted to cry, scream and curse all at the same time. She wanted aliens to come and beam her away, or a black hole to suck her in, anything except to be here right now lying on a dirty bus aisle floor with spilled coffee in front of the most beautiful man in the world. The hot coffee was already cooling, but it had smarted like a son-of-a-bitch where it had hit her...though most of it was flowing down the middle aisle. 

Other people yelped, someone called out. “Smooth move Ex-Lax!” 

Another person snickered. “Good going, Grace.” 

But the worst part was when Bog leaned over from his seat. “Here let me help you,” he offered in that damnably sexy accent. “Are you alright?” 

Marianne stood up so quickly that the back of her head collided with his chin, snapping his head up hard enough that he was thrown back in his seat. The beautiful man named Bog grunted in surprise. Marianne surged to her feet, having broken out in an embarrassed sweat, ran down the aisle and threw herself into one of the seats. She hunkered down, sinking as far as she could possibly go, wondering why the earth didn't just open up and swallow her?! 

Marianne muttered to herself. “God, I wish I was dead.” 

She glanced up once to see Bog rubbing his chin and looking back the way she had fled. He frowned in confusion lifting up in his seat a little, looking for her, but Marianne sank down lower hoping he would think she had jumped out of one of the bus windows. He frowned more, then seemed to sigh pushing his glasses up with one finger and turn back around, taking his seat. Marianne let out a sigh of relief. He probably thinks you need professional help Marianne, she mentally chided herself before she buried her embarrassed face, which felt like it was on fire, against her backpack and waited for the bus ride home to be over. 

* 

When the bus arrived at her stop, it was just becoming dark outside. The sky had that look of spilled ink spreading slowly across the blue. Te air was cooler and the stars were just starting to wink into visibility in the east. She waited, holding her “Hello Kitty” backpack up to her face so that only her eyes were visible over the edge and watched Bog stand. He had read the whole ride until it became too dark. She stared at his ass, his nice tight ass, her mind immediately going to the image of gripping his ass in her hands. It would fit just right...Ugh Marianne! She smacked herself in the face with her backpack which earned her a few looks from the people seated around her. They probably would have moved further away from her if they could. She berated herself for her thoughts, but it really was a nice ass. 

Bog turned to look behind him, his blue eyed gaze drifting around the back of the bus from behind his glasses, but she sank down low. If he saw the top of her head, he gave no indication as he turned and headed off the bus. Marianne watched him walk off the bus, her gaze following him for a couple of seconds through the window, then at the last possible minute, she rose to her feet and made a mad dash to the doors, running down the aisle and hopping off the bus at the last possible second, followed by the driver's chuckling, before he shut the door. 

Marianne let out a sigh of relief bending forward to drop her hands to her knees and plopping her backpack onto the sidewalk at her feet. She took several deep breaths. Okay, well at least he was gone and she could go home safe in knowing there was nothing else that could happen to make her look more of an idiot in front of the most beautiful man in the world than had happened already today. 

She smiled, picked her bag up and slung it over her shoulder as she walked the short distance to her apartment building. She smiled when she saw Brutus. 

“Weren't you here this morning?” she asked with a smile. 

The old man shrugged. “I just couldn't go off duty until I saw your smiling face munchkin.” 

Marianne laughed. Brutus had told her he called all his grandkids munchkins, of which he had six. It made her feel special that he called her that too, that he considered her important enough to him to call her by a nickname reserved for his grandkids. 

Brutus grinned and held the door open for her. “Good day at work?” he asked with a pointed look at the coffee splattered on her old sweater. 

Marianne shrugged. “Same ol' same ol'.” 

Brutus laughed. “Well, you have a good night at least munchkin. Get to bed at a decent time,” he suggested. 

“You too Brutus.” She smiled walking past the old man, giving his arm an affectionate squeeze. 

Marianne stopped to check her mail box....nothing but bills, a catalog and a menu for a Chinese takeout restaurant, which sounded good. She stuffed her mail under her arm before she turned to head down the hall to the elevator. She saw that the doors were open and had just started to slide shut. Marianne made a run for it. 

She dashed onto the elevator with a big grin, but, since she wasn't looking, her foot caught the slot for the elevators sliding doors, which pitched her forward. Marianne only had enough time to acknowledge that Bog was in the elevator. He looked up, his glasses sliding to the tip of his nose; his eyes were round with surprise and a faint smile had begun to tug at his lips. And that was also the moment that Marianne—suspended in that timeless moment in which the universe shows you how fucked you are—realized that her face was about to be planted in the crotch of the most beautiful man in the world. 

She only had enough time for one thought before she crashed nose first into his crotch. 

“Oh no, not like this...” 

Time suddenly sped up again. Marianne continued her nose dive straight into his crotch. Bog let out a yelp of surprise, followed by a groan of pain. Marianne dropped to her hands and knees just as Bog stumbled back, his hands covering his crotch his expression a mixture of pain and surprise. Marianne pushed herself to her feet so quickly that she lost her balance, only to fall right out of the elevator onto her ass the very moment the doors slid closed. 

The last thing she saw was Bog, both hands on his crotch, hunched over, a look of pain and shock on his face, his blue eyes staring right as her as the door closed between them. 

Marianne groaned dropping flat onto her back, throwing her arms out to the side. 

“Oh for fuck's sake!”


	2. The Salsa Incident or The Perils of Wearing White

Marianne considered staying in her apartment and never leaving, getting about a hundred cats, putting cardboard on her windows...maybe start collecting trash too. It seemed like the only solution, the most practical solution to her ultimate humiliation in front of the most beautiful man in the world with the weird name. Bog. At least that was her idea until she was on the phone with her sister that evening. 

“You did what?” She could hear the giggle in Dawn's voice. 

“I fell into his crotch, okay. Nose first.” Marianne moaned. She was curled on her couch with a blanket on her legs dressed in her favorite pajamas with the pandas printed all over it sipping a glass of milk and wishing she could fall off the face of the earth. 

Dawn giggle snorted, then giggled some more before she was forced to hold the phone away from her mouth. 

Marianne rolled her eyes listening to the muffled laughter from her sister. “You're not helping Dawn,” she groaned into the phone. 

“Sorry! I just had this mental picture...” Dawn giggled. “Of your face in this poor man's crotch!! Oh MY GOD Marianne!!! You couldn't have hit his chest or something?!” Dawn's giggle devolved into a full out laugh as Marianne groaned in response. “The reality was worse...the look on his face! How am I going to avoid him?!” 

Dawn grinned. “Why don't you just find out which apartment he is in and I don't know...send him a note and some flowers. Tell him you're sorry for being the most weird person in the world. A “I'm sorry my nose landed in your crotch” flower bouquet...they might actually have one.” Dawn snorted. 

Marianne narrowed her eyes. “You suck.” 

Dawn giggled. “Seriously though, big sis, you need to talk to the guy. If you like him just go introduce yourself...I mean you sorta already did it—can't really go any worse can it?” Dawn snorted again, trying to control her laughing as her giggling continued in spurts. “I mean...after having your face in his crotch, saying “Hi!” should be easy!” 

Marianne groaned. “Why can't a hole open up and swallow me?” 

“Because life is unfair. Oh, but on the side of life being fair, guess who called me!” Dawn's voice was light and happy. 

“Sunny?” Marianne asked. 

Dawn giggled happily. Marianne could envision her sister in her favorite yellow butterfly pajamas on her bed wiggling around with that contagious smile and bright blue eyes that were all happiness, rainbows and unicorns. Dawn was a constant source of joy. Sunny was a lucky guy; she hoped he knew exactly how lucky he was to have someone as wonderful as her sister crushing on him. “So baby sis, did he ask you out?” 

Dawn squealed. “YES! To a concert this weekend!! We're going to go see St. Vincent!” 

Marianne grinned as she sipped her milk, then set it down to pick up a butter cookie from the plate on the table next to her; a little indulgence before bed. 

“Oh I'm jealous.” She grinned before taking a bite. 

“You could come, you know,” Dawn offered softly, but Marianne made a rude noise. “Dawn, I am not going to tag along on your date. Don't be silly.” 

“I know...I just don't like the idea of you sitting at home by yourself on the weekends...every weekend,” Dawn muttered. 

“I don't sit at home alone every weekend.” Marianne frowned at the idea. 

“When was the last time you went out?” Dawn asked. 

Marianne said in a measured tone, “I'm fine Dawn; promise.” 

“Okay, but I bet that Bog guy would take you out, especially since you guys made it past first base already!” Dawn giggled again. 

Marianne groaned. “I hate you.” 

Dawn burst out laughing. “Sure you do. Love you sis. Have sweet dreams about tall, dark and dreamy.” 

Marianne chuckled. “Love you too, and right back at your just short, dark and adorable.” 

Dawn squealed in response before she hung up. Marianne smiled shaking her head. Her baby sister was just so sweet, then she sighed. How was she going to avoid seeing Bog in the morning? She pressed her lips together in thought, maybe she should approach tomorrow as an opportunity to make a second impression? Yeah...she could do that...dress nice, keep her poise. Yeah...yes, she could do that...she hoped. 

* 

The next morning Marianne was careful with getting dressed. She put on a crisp white button shirt that fit her well, showed off her trim figure, along with a white pencil skirt that ended just below her knees, printed with lavender flowers, it felt a little strange wearing the snug skirt, but it did look good on her. She fixed her make-up just so, her hair was styled and she put on a pair of grey, strap around the ankle kitten heels to complete the outfit. It was an outfit that she had only worn once or twice when she had to go to an important meeting with some big investors at the magazine and needed to look her best, or if she was involved in any out-of-town business event. She didn't wear it to work on a normal day...hell, she never dressed up for work unless she absolutely had to! But this was an emergency. She needed the most beautiful man in the world to see past yesterday—she didn't want him to always associate her with the girl who had inadvertently planted her face in his crotch. 

* 

Brutus blinked in astonishment when he saw Marianne step off the elevator. Her careful work on getting dressed and doing her make-up had taken more time than she usually spent in the mornings, and at the last minute she forgot her sweater to wear over her outfit since it was chilly out. All of her preparations had caused her to run late again; so she was trying to hurry in her heels which, granted, weren't high, but she wasn't accustomed to them, and the snugness of the skirt made moving fast an exercise in balance. 

Brutus smiled. “Well, what's the occasion?” 

Marianne smiled. “Oh, no occasion,” she said with a shrug. “Just ah, thought I felt like dressing up.” 

Brutus smiled tapping the side of his nose. “Ah...trying to impress someone, eh? I understand. Must be a special young man if you are hoping to impress him. He should be so lucky that a lovely accomplished young lady like you would give him the time of day.” 

Marianne giggled and blushed. “You're sweet.” 

“I just speak the truth my dear. Well, you have a good day!” Brutus held the door open for her as Marianne hurried out without tripping over her own feet...a minor miracle. She made it to the bus stop before the bus left, though she was the last one to board. The bus driver was an older woman who reminded Marianne of Roz from the movie Monsters INC. Marianne smiled and hurried into the aisle...and there he was sitting in the same seat as before, his glasses resting on the tip of his nose while reading a paperback novel. He had on his jacket from yesterday, the same red scarf, but he was wearing black slacks with very thin pin-stripes. She could see a hint of his socks from where his slacks rose up from his crossed leg...they were bright red with black stars! How cute! Marianne thought. She could see too that Bog was wearing a black dress shirt., minus tie, and a vest that matched his slacks. 

Marianne swallowed and slowed her pace trying to walk down the aisle with some dignity. Bog glanced up and Marianne was rewarded by a slight widening of his gorgeous blue eyes...he even gave her a once over! YES! Marianne thought. She just needed to make it past him and take her seat and she would be on her way to making a NEW first impression. 

She was just about to walk by him when his gaze rose up to met hers. Marianne pressed her lips together, for a moment lost...his eyes were just so damnable blue. And she tripped. At least she didn't fall on her face, but she did a sort of weird tripping, skipping dance step pass him before she pretty much fell into a seat. 

She flopped down hard enough that she made the bus seat squeak loudly and knocked one of her shoes off in the process (Oh...that was why she tripped Marianne thought...she hadn't buckled that damn ankle strap!!) 

Bog leaned over and picked up her shoe, turned around to smile at her. 

“You dropped this,” He said, his accent soft, seductive. 

Marianne swallowed, blushing brightly. “Ah..thank you.” 

Bog smiled more. “I'm Bog. I...I guess we sort of met yesterday.” 

Marianne blushed more. “I'm Marianne, and...ah, sorry about that.” 

Bog shrugged pushing his glasses up. “Nae problem. Dinnae fash yersel, it was an accident.” 

Marianne smiled. “Thanks.” 

Bog looked down for a moment clearly looking for something else to say. “Ah...I noticed we both work at the same place, “Creative Lifestyles.” I'm in the graphic design department.” 

Marianne smiled. “Oh I know...I mean...ah someone told me.” She motioned with her hand trying to sound nonchalant. 

Bog smiled. “You work in editing?” 

“Yeah...ah...my daddy actually owns the...” Oh shit...Marianne thought...she had just put her foot in her mouth...she didn't want him to think she was a daddy's girl working at her dad's place of business just because she was his daughter. But Bog only smiled and push up his glasses, which had slid down to the tip of his pointed nose again. “I was told you were the boss's daughter, and about how you were working your way up in the business. I like the fact that you don't abuse your parental links. That shows a lot of integrity.” Marianne blushed again...how much blushing could she do she wondered? Clearly a lot and there was a little thrill in her chest, like an escaped butterfly fluttering around and bumping against her breastbone. He had asked about her yesterday! Oh God...hopefully Roland didn't seek Bog out to say anything...the chances were that he wouldn't. Roland didn't associate with a lot of the male employees unless they were his “hangers-on.” Besides, he had already expressed his dislike for Bog. Marianne pushed the thought of Roland out of her mind and focused back on here and now; so far, successful conversation with Bog. “Thank you,” she said softly. 

Bog's cheeks reddened slightly then and he looked unsure of himself as he pushed his glasses up again (Marianne was beginning to think this was a nervous tick of his since he kept pushing up his glasses even though they didn't seem to have slid down.) 

“Well, ah maybe we will run into each other at work?” Bog smiled. 

“Ah...yeah.” Marianne smiled. 

They stared at one another, but then the bus hit a bump. Bog dropped his book. He bent down to pick the book up, and he didn't turn back around, but that was all right with Marianne. Everything was going to be all right! She grinned happily to herself stealing glances at the back of his head. 

Yeah...today was going to be a good day. 

Now...she just needed to figure out how to talk to him again. 

* 

Work was long and boring. 

She had an article come in through her email, written by their traveling reporter, a Miss Ashley Tripple who was currently on some cruise with a new cruise line. Part of her job was to report on things like new cruises, fancy foreign restaurants...sort of a dream position if you liked to travel and relax in high end hotels and such. This particular cruise that Ashley was on was traveling to Acapulco and, Marianne couldn't remember for sure...Cartagena? Tripple's job was to give an in depth report about the cruise itself, the service...ladalada—the typical travel sort of article that appealed to those who loved to travel overseas and had the money to do so. Marianne wasn't too keen on Tripple's articles. 

She felt they should focus on information about trips real people could actually afford, but it wasn't her call. 

The article that was waiting for her was bad. The cursed thing was sitting in her email when she arrived this morning and, if Marianne was any judge, Ashley was drunk off her ass when she wrote and emailed said article, which meant Marianne had a long day of not only trying to edit the piece, but also trying to decipher what the hell Ashley had written in the first place. 

Marianne sighed. This wasn't the first time Ashley emailed an article so badly written a three year old would have been ashamed. Ashley Tripple was skating on her father's—Mr. Arthur Tripple's—reputation. Part of that “skating” was Tripple's position as traveling reporter for the magazine. Mr. Tripple was a friend of Marianne's father from college, a dear friend too. There was some story of Arthur Tripple saving her Dad's life...which was the reason why Marianne was spending so much of her time editing this piece of crap that Ashley had “phoned” in. Marianne seemed to have to put in exorbitant work for every article that Ashley sent in, all for her father's sake. Marianne's Dad knew what a mess Ashley was, but he figured it was one article every other month; what did it hurt? Marianne thought about sending her father one of Ashley's pieces and letting him see exactly what kind of work was involved. But she didn't. 

Marianne was leaning on her elbow, her hand just barely supporting her cheek, staring at her computer screen with her mouth hanging open, getting dumber by the second trying to decipher Ashley's drunk writing when Plum plopped her hip onto Marianne's desk. 

“I'm here to rescue you from whatever is sucking away your brain cells,” Plum said with a grin. 

Marianne blinked and yawned, stretching her arms over her head. “What?” 

Plum smiled. “I'm not sure what you are working on, but it looks like it's draining your IQ and your will to live.” 

Marianne rolled her eyes. “Ashley Tripple.” 

Plum made a face. “Oh God. Another drunk article? Where the hell is she anyway?” 

“Yes...drunk and maybe high...hard to say.” Marianne narrowed her eyes in thought. “I think she might be in Acapulco.” 

Plum made a face. “Drunk bitch.” 

Marianne laughed. “Yeah. I'm just happy she doesn't ever show up in this office, but once every six months. Blah.” Marianne stuck a finger in her mouth to emphasize her point before she looked up at Plum inquisitively. “So, lunch you said?” 

“Yep, though I'm thinking that new guy wants to ask you out as many times as I've seen him wandering up here.” Plum looked thoughtful. 

Marianne frowned. “What?” 

Plum smiled. “Bog King, the new hire. I've seen him up here at least six times. I have no idea what he was doing. He looked to be just walking from one elevator to the other. Though...” Plum gave Marianne's outfit a once over. “I think you might have been dressing to impress someone, someone tall, dark and Scottish maybe...good at graphic design..?” 

Plum lifted her eyebrows at Marianne. 

Marianne frowned confused.”I...really? He was up here?” 

Plum nodded. “Really. Man that article really was sucking away your brain cells. But enough of that...lunch, I was thinking we might hit that Mexican restaurant, the one with the HUGE margaritas...” 

Marianne laughed. “We can't drink Plum!” 

Plum giggled. “Aw come on...how about you and I share one?” 

Marianne frowned. “I guess if we share...” 

“Good, get your purse and come on.” Plum hopped up. Plum wore heels and skirts all the time to work—tight skirts too—but she somehow managed to move as if she was floating everywhere...Marianne was really envious of her abilities at the moment as she wiggled and fumbled, getting up and grabbing her purse. She had just bent over to grab said purse when she heard a wolf whistle followed by: 

“Wow Marianne, are those space pants because that ass is out of control!” 

Marianne came up sharply and turned to see Roland standing there grinning his lopsided “boyish” grin at her. 

“Roland, you are on thin ice. One more word out of you I'm going to HR,” Marianne growled. 

Plum made a gagging noise. “God Roland, you really should learn to shut your mouth.” 

“What? I was just saying she looks good, geez.” Rolland looked completely confusion. 

“Roland, it's called sexual harassment.” Marianne walked past him and she and Plum turned to head to the elevators. 

“Okay, geez. Sorry Marianne. You look nice today. Hey, you guys wouldn't want a third for lunch would you?” Roland grinned. Marianne could see he was trying not to be a douche, but he was leering at her all the same. The two women walked onto the elevator and Marianne tapped the lobby button. 

“Roland—go to something constructive and evolve.” 

The doors closed. 

* 

Lunch was nice. Marianne didn't have to do a lot of talking when she spent time with Plum. Plum could easily hold a conversation all by herself, but the Triple Threat had been at the same restaurant so they had invited the sisters to sit with them which made Marianne's need to speak even less. 

Marianne spent a pleasant lunch listening to her work friends talk about their dates, or some sale where they purchased these heels that were to die for, or Plum talking about her newest boyfriend; she was only required to add just a little bit to the conversation here and there, just enough to remain engaged, but not so much that she had to do a great deal of talking. That gave her free more time to eat her chimichangas, salsa, chips and sip on a margarita. It was relaxing and Plum not once brought up Bog. Marianne couldn't be sure, but she was pretty positive that Plum was doing that on purpose, leaving the subject alone...for now. Marianne grinned. Plum was a good friend. 

Before heading back to work, Marianne decided to take a carryout container with the rest of her salsa and chips along with a little less than half her chimichangas with the thought of heading to her father's office to drop them off. Knowing her Dad, he had skipped lunch...again. She loved her father and worried about him. She periodically would bring him lunch or her leftovers just to make sure that he ate. 

Marianne was in good spirits. Granted, she hadn't seen Bog since arriving at work. She was actually glad she hadn't seen him on her floor because that would have increased the chances of her messing up her pleasant morning interaction with him, but knowing that someone else had seen him on her floor and that he had been looking at her, that made her day! Plus the fact that even with her tripping, she had actually had an exchange of words that hadn't ended up with her planting her face on any other body part of his. Maybe the disaster that had been yesterday was gone—poof, vanished! She had recieved her second chance to start over! Bog wouldn't think she was some sort of clumsy, disaster-waiting-to-happen weirdo who lurched around dropping food and tripping over herself! From this point on she was going to be make a good impression on him. And who knew...maybe she might ask him out! 

Before heading to her fathers floor, Marianne stopped off at her desk to leave her purse and sweater, grinning happily to herself the whole time. 

* 

She was all smiles on the elevator, swaying a little to the music in her head. Today was a pretty good day, she thought. Her outfit looked good, Bog seemed slightly interested, she hadn't done anything stupid in several hours...it was great. 

The doors to the elevator opened onto the floor where her father's office was located. Marianne headed out humming a St. Vincent's song to herself, doing a little dance with her hips and generally not paying attention as she rushed off the elevator and smacked into a tree. 

The take-out container squished hard against her breasts, popping open at the same time. The food inside didn't decide to come falling out. No, it decided to fling itself forward and splash all over the front of her white shirt, but most especially the salsa. The deep red, chucky salsa seemed to raise up in slow motion, splattering against her chest, then smearing and dripping down the front of her blouse in a gruesome mess. 

Marianne let out a gasp of surprise along with a muttered. “Shit!” 

She looked down at herself, now covered in salsa, chimichangas and rice. Then Marianne looked up to see what exactly she had run into... 

Bog. 

Bog gasped, his hands thrown up in the air as if he were under arrest. Marianne's face fell...no...why couldn't it have been anyone but Bog?! Why not the Pope? Oprah? Anybody else would have been better!! But no...of course it had to be Bog. Why was fate trying to make her look like the biggest, clumsiest idiot on the planet? Why? 

Bog seemed unsure what to do. His hands fluttered uselessly as he struggled with not touching her. (Marianne only partly noticed this.) The majority of her attention was focused on the fact that her perfect afternoon of not embarrassing herself had come to an end. Days without incident: 0. 

Bog gasped. “I'm so sorry! Here, here—hold still. Ah'll be reit back with something you can clean that off with!” Bog turned and rushed off. 

Marianne stood there and stared down at her shirt. The salsa made her look as if she had just rushed out of a murder scene. She knew her face was flushed bright red to match the salsa now dripping down her white shirt, onto her white flower-printed skirt. Some of the salsa, clearly thinking with a mind of its own, plopped down to hit the top of her shoes. Oh well...might as well complete the look...shoes matched the top! 

She was aware of everyone on this floor staring at her...standing up to look over their little fake walls, stopping on their way to deliver some papers, or leaning back dangerously in their office chairs to stare at the boss's daughter. 

God...where was that hole to swallow her up?! If she had only been paying attention! 

Before Bog could return, Marianne's mind finally started to work and she turned to rush off to the restrooms that she knew where on this floor. Luckily no one was inside when she rushed in. Marianne wanted to cry, but thankfully she resisted that urge...hat was all she would need, mess up her make-up so she looked like a murderous clown on top of looking as if she ate like a kindergartner! She hurried over to the sink, turned on the water full blast and grabbed a fistful of paper towels which she immediately stuck under the water flow and started to scrub angrily at her shirt. 

“Marianne, I swear you have it out for yourself! You just had to let your guard down! You couldn't have stayed alert until the end of the day! And everything was going well today, nothing could possibly go wrong...and why did you have salsa?! You should have known!! That was just inviting the heavens to mess with you! Idiot!” Marianne scolded herself while she vigorously worked on trying to get the red stain out of her shirt. 

She scrubbed...but all that was happening was that the red stain began to spread like a bloodstain...that was bad enough, but what Marianne wasn't fully noticing...what she wasn't fully grasping...was that while the red became thin and watery on her shirt, spreading into a thin red stain...the water was making other parts of her top wet...very wet. 

Marianne gave up. 

She threw the towels into the trash. She was wet and chilly now...she would simply have to wear her sweater for the rest of the day. She pushed open the bathroom door hoping that maybe she could get off this floor quickly, avoid Bog, get down to her desk (call a janitor) and get home without having to see Bog, because she clearly couldn't interact with the man without finding some way to embarrass herself. 

Marianne had just stepped out of the bathroom only to find Bog standing outside waiting for her. He smiled nervously, holding up a bottle of ginger ale. “One of the ladies said that ginger...” 

His voice trailed off, his eyes behind his glasses going wide. Marianne frowned. He was looking at her chest, his entire face had turned red before his eyes shot back up to her face. The tips of his ears had turned an even brighter red. Just as she was about to glance down at herself, Roland's voice rang out. 

“HEY! I didn't know we had wet t-shirt contests!! Nice bra Marianne! I love the lace!” 

Marianne groaned. 

God, where was that hole?


	3. Get Together

Marianne woke up feeling groggy and pulled her blankets up over her head. She laid there for a moment waiting in terror for the alarm to go off, and then after a few tense heartbeats, she realized in the next breath that it was Saturday! SATURDAY!! She grinned happily and snuggled down in her bed, pulled her blankets up higher as she wiggled some more, burying herself into her pillows with glee. Today was the first day of two where she would not be anywhere near Bog and nothing horrible would happen. Saturday and Sunday, the only two perfect days of the week. The salsa incident had happened on Friday, which had been the only saving grace of the whole incident. She had left work after the wet shirt incident without a word to anyone (well she had seen Plum on her way out, whose eyes had widened at her giving her an up and down “look” but she had said nothing.) Marianne went straight home and did not return; she called in from the bus. The funny thing was no one had questioned her about leaving early when she called HR which immediately told Marianne that the news of her wet shirt and the salsa had already made it to the HR offices by the time she called. 

Even the bus ride home with her wet shirt, looking like a fool wasn't as bad as standing there with Bog looking embarrassed for her. 

But today was the weekend!! She didn't have to worry about making a fool out of herself in front of the most beautiful man in the world because, even though he was living somewhere in her building, she was only going to leave her apartment once this weekend and that was for munchies! The chances of her running into him were slim. She just had to get out and get back in without being caught or seen...like Jason Bourne, in and out before anyone even knew she had left the apartment building... 

Marianne had major plans...which involved running down to the store for popcorn and candy bars, lying on her couch and watching movies all day--in her pajamas--with a two liter bottle of cola. She might even order herself a pizza!! 

She could stuff her face and burp all she wanted and there would be no embarrassing herself in front of Bog...the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Yeah, she thought the perfect weekend. 

* 

Marianne finally got up around noon. Her plan was to head down to the store on her bike to pick up a bag of pre-bagged popcorn, a bag of candy bars and a two liter of soda, maybe a few miscellaneous items she might need...like milk or something too, but the main goal was to acquire popcorn, candy bars. She took a quick shower, blow dried her hair and dressed, minus make-up; pulled on a pair of old blue basketball shorts, an old purple babydoll t-shirt that read “The Boss of Bosses” on it, some white tube socks and her favorite pair of beat up purple Reeboks. It wasn't her most attractive, outfit but it was Saturday and she didn't care. Her aim was comfort...plus she was riding her bike. She grabbed her reusable grocery bag that she always left by the door and headed out. 

She headed downstairs and down to the basement where her bike was kept in one of the storage cages, rode the elevator back up to find Brutus on duty at the door this morning. He was sipping coffee (she could smell it, strong coffee) from a thermos as she stepped off the elevator. He smiled when he saw her and waved. 

She grinned. Walking her bike toward the door, she said, “Hey Brutus!” 

Brutus’ smile brightened. “Hey Marianne, ah, I see it's Saturday movie day.” 

Marianne laughed. “Yep, I have a rough day of movies and laying around planned.” 

The doorman laughed along with her. “Good for you.” 

He held the door open for her as she pushed her bike outside. The day was chilly, but the sky was blue and she knew by the time she got back from the store she would be hot and sweaty. Weekend exercise, check, which meant she could eat her bag of fun-size candy bars this weekend without guilt! Double check! With a smile on her face, Marianne headed out. 

* 

Half an hour later Marianne, hot, sweaty and grinning happily, arrived back at the apartment building with her sack full of goodies. She had just gotten off her bike on the sidewalk in front of her building, wiped her sweaty brow when she stepped in something soft and squishy which was immediately followed by the foul scent of poo. 

Marianne stood there for a moment, then wrinkled her nose up in annoyance with a muttered curse under her breath. “Shit.” 

Holding her bag over her arm, Marianne hopped over to the narrow strip of grass and did her best to wipe her shoe off while muttering incoherently. Brutus was standing outside watching her with a frown as Marianne stopped, delicately pulled her shoe off and held it with one hand, kept her bag slung over her other arm while balancing her bike. 

The older man thought she looked comical as she walked back up to the apartment entrance. 

The smell was horrible. 

Brutus grimaced as Marianne came closer. “Little accident?” 

Marianne sighed. “I shouldn’t have left the apartment, I swear.” 

Brutus chuckled softly as he held the door open for her. “Why don’t you just leave your bike in the lobby? I'll watch over it for you until you can come down and put it away, okay?” 

“You sure?” Marianne asked balancing her bike against her hip trying to hold the offending shoe as far away from her body as she could. 

Brutus smiled. “Go on. You can take care of that and come back for it. Not a problem.” 

“Thanks Brutus, you’re the best.” Marianne smiled. 

Brutus held the door open while Marianne maneuvered the bike inside. She leaned her bike against the wall and headed toward the elevator. She had just gotten onto the elevator when Bog walked out of the apartment complex’s downstairs gym. Saturday was the day he usually hit the gym. Marianne didn’t see him walk out, wearing a pair of shorts, shirtless, until she had walked onto the elevator and turned around. Marianne stopped cold, her poo covered shoe held out from her, her bag of junk food hanging from her other hand as the tall artist started to walk toward the elevator, shirtless. 

Time slowed down, nearly stopping. It was like those moments, Marianne thought, when the movie’s protagonist sees her crush, the most gorgeous man in the world, walking toward her and time just slows to a crawl. In her head “Shoop” by Salt-n-Pepa started playing as he moved toward the elevator, his shirt in his hand, glasses on the end of his nose wearing those shorts… 

* 

“Lick him like a lollipop should be licked 

Came to my senses and I chilled for a bit 

Don't know how you do the voodoo that you do 

So well it's a spell, hell, makes me wanna shoop shoop shoop..” 

* 

The song played in her head as the sun shone through the main doors of the apartment building, highlighting the light perspiration that covered his torso. The sweat caught the light causing him to glow...he glowed. She would swear he glowed. No, no, no, that was wrong, he GOD DAMN GLISTENED! He glistened...Bog King’s glistening torso dominated her vision and her mind. Her mouth fell open as he moved closer. She could see the tiny beads of sweat roll down his stomach. Her eyes, since time had slowed down, followed the trail of one drop of sweat that had started at his nipple and followed its travels down the hills of his lean muscled body until it reached the top of his short to disappear, soaked into the fabric of the shorts, but she liked to thing the lucky drop had gone further, into the dark jungle. The inside of the elevator became stifling. 

Her eyes next focused on his body again and she realized something new and wondrous. He was tattooed, not a little tattooed, but...really tattooed which was totally unexpected. His arms were covered in sleeve work that was an intricate twist of celtic knots and some flowers...he turned slightly, waving at Brutus and saying something to the doorman, She didn’t hear what they said, but his turning around gave Marianne a clear view of his heavily tattooed back...Celtic/Norse knotwork and designs covered his entire back...and that wasn’t even considering his ass which she got a really good look at in the shorts he was wearing… 

* 

“Umm, you're packed and you're stacked 'specially in the back 

Brother, wanna thank your mother for a butt like that 

Can I get some fries with that shake-shake boobie?” 

* 

Marianne licked her lips like a starving woman seeing food for the first time in weeks. He turned back around, smiling as he said something else to Brutus...the damn song kept playing as he walked closer. 

* 

“Bright as the sun, I wanna have some fun 

Come and give me some of that yum-yum 

Chocolate chip, honey dip, can I get a scoop? 

Baby, take a ride in my coupe, you make me wanna…” 

* 

She couldn’t move...just as Bog reached the elevator and started to step on, time took that moment to speed up, going extra fast...at least from Marianne’s perspective and before she could stop it, before she could do anything to prevent the horrible thing from happening, she moved, he moved and his shirt hit her hand holding the dog poop covered shoe, both of with fell to the floor of the elevator. 

Marianne screamed. “NO!” 

She lunged but it was too late, the fates had conspired to have everything fall in such a way that his shirt was hopelessly tangled around her shit covered shoe… 

Bog yelped in surprise then wrinkled his nose at the smell, just as the elevator doors closed, trapping them inside the little box with the foul odor. Marianne whimpered wondering what she had done in a previous life to deserve this level of bad luck, because this just wasn’t fair. 

“Oh...oh, I’m so sorry.” Marianne fumbled, her words dribbling out of her mouth. 

Bog started to drop down to pick everything up, but Marianne knocked his hands away with a panicked shout. “NO! Don’t touch that!!” 

Bog, who had started to crouch, came back up in a flash, startled by her eruption and stared at her like she had grown a second head. Marianne wanted to die...not only had her poop covered shoe now soiled his shirt, but she looked like the crazy woman in her weird outfit, sweaty...with a bag full of junk food, shouting at him… 

Oh, never mind she thought, she was doomed. He had to think she was a complete nutter. 

“Ah...sorry...I...I ah... had an accident and…” Marianne stumbled then groaned inwardly… she made it sound like she had been the one to shit on the sidewalk! 

Bog smiled. “It's all right. People really should pick up after their dogs. How about we do this to make it easier on you.” 

He surprised her by kneeling down and using his shirt to wrap around the soiled shoe. 

Marianne stared at him. “But...your shirt...it’s…” 

Bog smiled looking up at her as he finished wrapping the shirt then stood up and handed it to her. “Just wash it and you can bring it by later.” 

Marianne blinked at him. She knew she had to look stupid because she was staring without saying a word. Bog frowned, clearly uncomfortable and unsure, then smiled again. 

“I’m in the apartment across from you.” 

“WHAT?” she blurted out loudly. In the next instant she lowered her voice trying to sound casual. “What…?” She smiled and cocked her hip, leaning her hand against the wall that held the bag which kept sliding up and down her arm uncomfortably while holding the poop covered shoe he had handed back to her. She was doing all this while at the same time trying her best not to stare at his chest...stomach...and not to lick her lips--no licking! She told herself...no licking. 

She continued trying to sound casual and not like a raving lunatic. Maybe she could salvage some of her dignity. “You live across from me?” She smiled knowing her attempt at covering for her yelling, (which she had now done more times than any normal person should who wasn’t on fire), was a failure. 

Bog only smiled. “Yeah, I’m just across the hall. You can wash the shirt and bring it by if you like…maybe, if you want, you could stay for dinner too.” 

Marianne swallowed. “Ah...oh...okay.” Then she did a classic double take at him. “Dinner?” 

He blushed slightly. The smell of her offending shoe filled the elevator. “I...I mean, if you would like.” 

Marianne didn’t say anything at first, she just stared at him until they both looked uncomfortable, it was as if she had forgotten how to use words. Her brain was struggling with the concept of dinner...had he just asked her over for dinner? He had...no...yes...yes he had… 

Bog frowned. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to…” 

Marianne yelled. “YES!” Throwing the word out there as if she were afraid that if she didn’t the offer would be snatched away. In the next breath she tried to reclaim her cool. “I mean...sure...yeah that would be nice.” 

Bog laughed lightly. His face held a smile easily; the smile reached right to his blue eyes which danced...they dance! Her eyes were directed to his mouth. Oh is lips were so nice, perfectly shaped she thought. She wanted to squeak like her little sister at the sight of his teeth--slightly crooked--how freakin’ adorable her smitten mind thought happily. Oh and his eyes when he smiled!! She would swear they even became more blue! How could a man have such incredible eyes? She wondered. 

“Well, I’ll be home the rest of the day, so bring the shirt by whenever Marianne.” He smiled just as the elevator dinged, the doors opening on their floor. Bog stepped out, his back tattoo on full display then turned and waved at her as he walked down the hall to his apartment. Marianne just stood in the elevator staring at him, a shit covered shoe in her hand, her mouth hanging open. The doors to the elevator closed on her startling her out of her staring and making her realize she had forgotten to get off on her floor with him. 

“Aw shit,” she muttered, but then she giggled. “He asked me over?...He asked me over!” She made a loud, high pitched squeak that would have done a dolphin proud. 

* 

Marianne had a small stackable washer and dryer set that fit into a tiny space alongside her kitchen. She had the shirt and shoe washing, the sound of the shoe tumbling around in the washer beat out along with Madonna’s “Get Together” that she had playing in the background. She rushed around her apartment in the meantime looking in her laundry baskets, her closet, her chest of drawers, searching for something to wear that was neither too fancy nor too plain. Apparently this rare piece of clothing she sought didn’t exist, because she couldn’t find anything! 

Her heart was slamming against her chest as she continued to go over in her head the major event in her life that had altered her Saturday plans. 

“Bog, Bog King--the most beautiful man in the world--as invited me over for dinner! Despite my clear lunacy, he invited me over...he could just want to be friends though...that’s okay, I’ll take friends.” She thought to herself. For now. 

Her inner voice had a decidedly wicked little laugh she thought. 

Marianne showered and finally settled on a pair of skinny jeans, a purple and white striped top with loose rolled up sleeves and a pair of lavender ballet flats. She took special care with her make-up, only smearing her eyeliner and then her mascara clear across her face once...only once, each. Maybe the planets were in perfect alignment right now and this...this was her moment. Marianne grinned at her reflection. “Yes, you can do this Marianne,” she told her reflection, giving herself two thumbs up. 

Marianne retrieved Bog’s t-shirt, now nice and white once more after more than half a dozen washings and being dried. She test sniffed the shirt...like vanilla, the scent of her dryer sheets. She giggled and imagined wearing his shirt...She shook her head, squared her shoulders and gave herself a pep-talk. 

“All right, ready. You can do this...just go on over there and give him his shirt and eat dinner. You can be charming, sweet, show him you are not a crazy person or a walking disaster.” She said this like she was going on a mission for the government. 

A moment later, Marianne walked across the hall to Bog’s door. Nothing happened. She didn't fall on her face. Yeah...planets aligned. 

Marianne took a deep breath and knocked on his door. A moment later Bog opened the door and Marianne wanted to swoon. She almost did. He was wearing a pair of jeans that hugged his hips like a second skin (inner Marianne giggled and said, “Me-ow,”) with a pair of soft brown oxfords. 

He was also wearing a simple white button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up showing off some of his tattooed arms, the shir was untucked and the top buttons were unbuttoned showing off the hollow of his throat...(“Oh God!” she thought...look at that...Salt-n-Pepa startled to sing quietly to her in little whispered voices...Lick him like a lollipop should be licked…) 

Bog smiled, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Hi, come on in.” 

He held the door for her, stepping aside. Marianne stepped in handing him his shirt mutely. Bog set it aside with a smile, shutting the door behind her. 

His apartment had a similar set up to hers, a fairly wide open space with the living room and kitchen sharing the space with a sort of “bar” dividing the kitchen from the living room, a window that looked outside--not much of a view--but the window did provide a lot of light. There was a small hall that led to the bedroom and bathroom. There was a tiny coat closet near the front door and another closet down the hall. Bog’s apartment was decorated in soft browns and warm teal green with a teal colored couch and two recliners, a wooden coffee table in the center, but it was the wall art that intrigued her. She did her best not to stare with her mouth hanging open, but the walls had framed pieces of art covering them, all of which looked to be original pieces. There were a couple of paintings, but most of the art was black and white sketches; pencils and charcoal works. Marianne’s brows rose in surprise; they were gorgeous. There were pictures of the city, some were of people, an older woman in one, a man and woman...the same woman...a couple in another...pictures of...Scotland maybe? She couldn’t be sure, but that was what the images reminded her of...castles, windswept fields of heather, soaring cliffs by the ocean, all sketched in gorgeous detail. Over in the corner, closer to the window, was a drawing table with pencils, charcoal and colored pencils, one of those weird looking adjustable lamps and sketches spread across it...she saw a hint of a picture on the table, but Bog had laid a sheet of paper over the image, for a moment she frowned. There was a hint of brown hair, spiky...almost looked like hers... 

Marianne’s voice was breathless as she stared at the artwork. “These are beautiful.” 

Bog blushed seeing her standing in the middle of his living room staring. He walked closer, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Ah...those are all mine. I… uh, drawing is a hobby. I like using pencils, charcoal...seeing the world in black, white and grey...softer. Reminds me of rainy days.” 

Marianne glanced over at him. “Are these from Scotland?” 

Bog smiled with a nod. “Good eye. Yeah.” He pointed at one of the pencil images not quite touching the glass of the framed picture. “This is Sinclair Castle. It was the last trip we went on as a family before my Da passed.” Bog walked over to one of the pictures of the older couple. “This is my Mam and Da.” 

Marianne stepped over to take a closer look. She was amazed at the detail Bog had put into the sketch. Even though the image was black and white pencil and charcoal, she could tell Bog and his father shared the same blue eyes. She smiled softly. The image showed the two older people gazing at each other. “They look so in love.” 

Bog gave her a lopsided smile as he shoved his hand back into his front pocket. “They were. My Da passed a few years ago while I was over here working on my degree.” His voice was soft, sad. Marianne frowned and brushed his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I kind of understand. I lost my mother. I was a kid though. She died in a car accident when I was sixteen.” 

Bog frowned. “I’m sorry.” He looked down at his shoes when he spoke. “My Da had cancer. He didn’t want me staying when he was sick, wanted me to go out there and live my life.” Bog smiled looking back over at her. “But my Mam is still with me. She moved here after my Da passed. Too many memories in Scotland, though I’m planning a trip this summer with her.” 

Marianne gazed at him. “That is so sweet. I mean, taking a vacation with your mother,” 

Bog blushed. “Or pathetic...Anyway.” He swallowed and clapped his hands together making her jump a little. “Well, I was going to make skillet chicken parmesan, if that sounds good to you?” 

“Only if you let me help,” Marianne said with a smile. 

Bog grinned. “Follow me.” 

* 

Soon they were in the kitchen together, cooking together. Marianne wanted to squeal with joy! Never in her wildest dreams did she think--especially after her last couple of days around him--that she would be in Bog’s kitchen cooking with him! Maybe everything was starting to go right for a change she thought happily. 

Bog had put on some music, some soft Celtic music, the song he said was called Three Daughters of Divinity. It was lovely, with a harp, violins; soft and dreamy. He had offered her some ice tea, pouring her a tall glass before he pulled everything out of the refrigerator for their dinner. Marianne sighed inwardly. Everything was almost too perfect she thought. 

Marianne watched while Bog coated the chicken in breadcrumbs, placing the boneless chicken pieces carefully in a cast-iron skillet where some olive oil already sat simmering. Marianne was to watch over the chicken while Bog went about getting the sauce and cheese together, then set about making them a salad to go with the main dish. Marianne found herself distracted as she watched Bog. He was cutting up some carrots. She stared at his profile. A lock of dark hair had fallen forward over his brow, brushing against his eyebrow. He was chewing his bottom lip while he worked, which she found downright sexy. Her eyes wandered over his profile, studied his long nose, very distinctive, and his sharp chin. He was clean shaved] but there was a slight shadow that begged for her to run her hand over his jaw. And then there were his lips--his teeth dragged across his bottom lip while he chopped the carrot...God, his lips were so kissable she thought. The light from the window, as well as the overhead light, caught the side of his eyes and the blue stood out sharply in contrast to his pale skin. His glasses slid down his nose while he worked. He had just stopped to push them up when his head suddenly came up and he sniffed the air. That was the moment the fire alarm went off. He turned sharply and yelped. 

“MARIANNE!” 

Marianne blinked coming out of her lust induced haze to turn, smelling the sharp scent of smoke, burned chicken and the metallic scent of a burning cast-iron skillet. At the moment that Marianne turned and saw that both pieces of chicken were not just burning, but with the olive oil bubbling around them, they had turned into two blackened pieces of charcoal, then the entire thing burst into hot red and yellow flames. Not just the chicken, not just the oil...all of it became a red hot fireball. 

Marianne screamed and flinched away from the sudden conflagration. “SHIT!” 

Just as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Bog grabbed her around the waist yanking her backwards as the entire thing exploded.


	4. Fire and Water

Marianne sighed and took a bite of pizza as she sat on the edge of Bog’s couch watching him talk with the fire fighters, the maintenance man and Mrs. Anderson from two floors up. She sighed again as she watched him. He had his back to her while he was explaining what had happened. Her gaze ran down his lean back to his ass...which...wow...damn, those pants hugged his rear...she thought as she swallowed, taking a too large bite of pepperoni, nearly choking herself and reached over for her soda which she then proceeded to almost drop. She didn’t deserve to be admiring that ass she thought...she had tried to kill them both...the ass gazing should be off limits! Punishment, but damn...it was a really nice ass. Marianne sighed and shoved more pizza in her mouth. God...worst first date ever. Well, for Bog probably. She sighed around her bite of pizza. 

Bog had grabbed her around the waist to yank her out of the way when everything had burst into flames on his stove, probably saving her life...like a hero...while she was more like Wile E. Coyote...with everything blowing up in her face. She had then watched in stunned silence as Bog had dived down yanking the cabinet doors under the kitchen sink open and pulled out a fire extinguisher, the fire alarm in his apartment blaring loudly as the smoke started to turn black...Mrs. Anderson had shown up a minute later with her own extinguisher. Mrs. Anderson, a widow who had lived in the apartment for as long as anyone could remember, always appeared at the scene of any disaster or other disturbance like a Banshee there to scream like a portent of doom...which Marianne thought, she kind of was...especially now, here to predict the end of anything ever happening between Marianne and Bog. Great Marianne thought...just great. 

Marianne had wanted to run home and hide, but Bog had begged her to stay. Marianne’s cheeks burned with the memory of Bog grabbing her hands, his blue eyes pleading with her to stay as he held her hands clasped between both of his...his long-fingered graceful hands. God, his hands had been so warm and the way they enveloped hers...she swooned at the memory. She had offered to order pizza and Bog had pulled out a wad of cash, handing it to her. God, she still couldn’t believe he had wanted her to stay! What was wrong with him? Marianne sighed again and re-assessed the situation. Absolutely nothing she thought as her eyes wandered to his rear again. 

Marianne frowned taking another large bite of her slice of pizza. She was a walking disaster, she thought as her gaze drifted from Bog to ground zero that was his kitchen. The pan had melted the top of his stove, falling through into the oven. The back wall where the stove sat was black and the hood over the stove was a black and brown mix of melted colors. On top of that, the whole apartment smelled like smoke and burnt chicken, even with the window open. Marianne sighed. What on earth was wrong with her? Had some witch put a curse on her? Was she born under an unlucky star? 

She took a bite of pizza, contemplating her life as a walking disaster when Mrs. Anderson came over and sat down beside her. 

The old woman had a kind smile, though very shrewd eyes. The little old woman missed nothing in this apartment building. She couldn’t be any taller than 4’8” with white hair piled up on top of her head in a sort of twisty sweetroll looking hair do. She was wearing a light blue house dress with yellow flowers and a pair of fuzzy blue slippers, but she looked anything but frail. She patted Marianne’s knee as she sat down. 

“So, this your fault?” the old woman asked with a lifted brow. 

Marianne nodded. “Yeah. Did he tell you what I did?” 

Marianne glanced over at Bog who was still speaking with the firemen and the maintenance guy when Mrs. Anderson shook her head. “No, no darling. He didn’t say a word about you being involved. Blamed himself.” 

“What?” Marianne turned to look at Mrs. Anderson. 

The old lady grinned. “That boy likes you...a lot. Told them it was all his doing. That he wasn’t paying attention.” 

Marianne blushed, her eyes widening. “Really? Then how did you know if was my fault?” 

Mrs. Anderson chuckled. “Oh sweetheart, the way that boy was going on about how clumsy he was...an old lady like me knows these things. Like I said. That boy likes you.” 

Marianne looked back at Bog with wide eyes. “You really think so?” 

Mrs. Anderson smiled. “Sweetheart, when you’ve been around as long as I have and been in love--real love--you know these things.” She patted Marianne’s leg. “I just wanted to tell you not to give up on him sweetie. If burning his kitchen didn’t turn him off, you should pursue that tall drink of water…no matter how many times you try to burn down his kitchen.” 

Marianne chuckled. “Thanks.” 

* 

An hour later Bog was sitting next to her taking a huge bite out of his slice of pizza and rolled his eyes making a soft sound of pleasure. Marianne grinned watching him. God he was damn adorable she thought. She liked watching his mouth move, his lips...his jaw...his throat... 

Marianne shivered and focused her attention on something else...like her soda which was far safer than allowing her eyes to continue traveling down Bog’s body. God what was wrong with her? Him eating was so...hot! 

Marianne sipped her drink before she asked. “So...your kitchen…” 

Bog glanced over his shoulder at the disaster area then shrugged. “It’s fine. The maintenance guy said they can get me a new stove tomorrow and the smoke smell should be out in a day or two...just have to wash the walls, the curtains…new paint...might have to replace the microwave...” He smiled. “No problem.” 

Marianne frowned and cringed before she asked quietly. “Why don’t I come over and help you clean?” Now that Mrs. Anderson was gone, Marianne was right back to where she started, doubting herself and doubting that Bog could really like her after this latest, and largest, disaster. 

Bog smiled gently. “You don’t have to, but if you would like to come over and help...it could be fun. I could order us some Chinese...” 

Marianne blushed. “Yeah...okay, I could bring over some cleaning supplies.” 

Bog nodded. “Then it's a date.” 

Marianne’s heart did a little flip and a cheer in her chest. Maybe her life wasn’t a total disaster! 

* 

The next morning Marianne woke up early. She had realized last night when she had come home that she didn’t have one thing to clean with: she was out of 409 and Windex, no sponges...heck, she didn’t even have a bucket! She dashed to her closet thinking she could run down to the store on her bike when she stopped and stared. Today was laundry day...nothing was clean. 

Marianne muttered. “Well...shit.” 

She scanned her closet; the only thing clean was a cute little maxi dress, long black with large purple flowers printed over it. It was sleeveless and completely inappropriate for the weather, but it was clean. Marianne grabbed it out of the closet, threw it on, grabbed her tennis shoes, knee socks, an old messenger bag to throw her wallet and phone into and a sweater before she hurried down the stairs. 

She had made it all the way down to the basement for her bike when she muttered, “Stupid.” She could have thrown on something she had just worn once, but for some reason the thought of getting caught in day old dirty clothes worried her more than throwing on the thin maxi dress and yanking the skirt up to her knees. 

* 

With some difficulty, she got her bike up and out of the building, smiling at Roy who was on doorman duty this morning. Roy was thirty-years Brutus’ junior, but just as sweet. He held the door open for her and smiled. 

“Be careful Miss Summerfield, looks like rain today.” 

Marianne, in the process of putting her foot on the pedal looked up. The sky was relatively clear even with the chill in the air. “Looks fine Roy, but thanks.” 

Roy smiled and tipped his hat at her as Marianne took off heading down to the store to grab cleaning supplies. 

* 

While at the store, Marianne purchased a plastic bucket, some rubber gloves for both of them, some TSP which the clerk recommended for getting soot off of walls and surfaces, some orange scented cleaner that the clerk had also recommended, some vinegar which the clerk had said if you leave small bowls of it around the area it would help soak up the smell, (after a while Marianne had to wonder how many household fires the clerk had been involved in) and lastly she purchased glass cleaner, regular surface cleaner, some matches and a package of incense, cleaning out the cash she had in her wallet. She tossed everything into the bucket and headed out to her bike. She had just stepped outside, turning left toward the bike rack when she saw a LARGE silvery grey puppy tied next to her bike. The puppy had its back to her, standing on his long legs, his tail wagging with enthusiasm, but when he heard the shop door open the large puppy turned around with a happy, cheerful puppy grin. 

Marianne cooed. “Oh look at you!” 

The puppy looked up at her with large blue eyes as it jumped up on her, his tail wagging back and forth happily. Marianne dropped into a crouch reaching out to rub the little (relatively speaking) guy’s head when she saw her bike...the back wheel was flat. Marianne frowned as she rubbed the puppy’s head. He was jumping up on her and licking her face with puppy glee. She smiled rubbing the puppy’s ears before she stood up staring mournfully at her tire. When she did, the puppy turned around happily and began to chew on her back wheel with the enthusiasm only a puppy could have. 

“Oh no,” Marianne muttered. 

She heard the chime of the store’s door behind her then someone saying. “Okay Nero I got you some chew toys, let’s see if we can't….oh Nero!” 

A young woman with long brown hair that she had up in a high ponytail dashed over to Nero and pulled him off the tire. “Nero no!!” 

Nero turned around and excitedly jumped all over his master licking her with excitement. “Oh Nero…” 

She looked up, her face going pale when she realized Marianne was standing there. “Oh...crap, is this your bike?” 

Marianne smiled weakly and sighed. “Yeah.” 

“Oh gosh I am so sorry! Nero’s teething...he’s been chewing on everything in the house...but I never thought...Oh gosh let me give you my information. I can buy you a new tire...I am so sorry…” The young woman stood up with Nero jumping up on her legs while she looked on the verge of tears. Nero on the other hand, was very happy. 

Marianne waved her off. 

“Don’t worry...it's fine. He’s adorable and I know he didn’t do it on purpose.” Marianne smiled and dropped down again which allowed Nero to rush over to get several licks in on Marianne’s face as well as receiving a few more ear rubs from Marianne. 

Marianne chuckled. “He is adorable, how could I be mad?” 

The young woman smiled. “Nero’s a great Dane. Though I never really appreciated how big and how strong he was going to be. He’s chewed on everything in the house, all my furniture, the bed, the couch...the cabinet doors...you name it, it has teeth marks.” She put her hand out to Marianne. “My name’s Holly.” 

Marianne took her hand. “Marianne and wow…” 

Holly laughed. “I really am sorry.” 

Marianne chuckled as Nero wagged his tail happily between the two women. 

“It’s fine. No worries.” Marianne said. She couldn’t really be mad at Nero, but she was not looking forward to the walk home. 

* 

Marianne sighed. Walking her bike home was proving to be more precarious than she had initially thought. The bucket was heavy and while she would alternate between balancing it on the handlebars, with the back wheel being flat and wobbly, the bike kept wanting to fall over. The worst part was she had to stop and take her sweater off; the air was becoming muggy and she was sweating like sinner in church...everywhere, she probably looked like a sweaty pig. Marianne groaned rolling her eyes toward the sky. She noticed that the clouds had become thicker, darker. Marianne stopped and stared. 

“No. No no no no no!!” Marianne shouted at the sky. 

A couple on the other side the street turned to stare at her, but Marianne didn’t notice as she was pointing her finger at the sky and yelling. “NO! Don’t you dare rain on me!!!” 

She stood there glaring for a couple of seconds until the first drops of rain began to fall. She glared harder and hissed. “NO!” 

But the drops became heavier. Marianne snarled grabbing her bike handles, muttering, 

“This isn’t fucking fair.” 

That was the moment the sky opened up and began to pour. 

* 

By the time Marianne arrived back at the apartment buildings, she was soaked to the bone, her dress sticking to her, her hair flat against her head. She had to continually stop and dump water out of her bucket of supplies, and her incense had become soaked. Marianne wanted to cry, but she was so damn wet she didn’t want to add to the water. Roy saw her when she rolled her bike up to the door. He held the door open for her with a wince, unable to school his features as she walked in. Roy closed the door behind her, watching while Marianne stood in the entryway, a puddle slowly forming around her feet as she shivered like a drowned poodle. Marianne snarled. 

“This sucks.” 

Roy frowned. “I could go get you a tow…” 

His words were cut off when they both heard the sound of feet hopping down the stairs followed by a loud gasp. 

Marianne turned to see Bog standing on the stairs pushing his glasses up and taking in the scene...oh God she wanted to moan, why do you hate me so much? 

He started coming down the rest of the stair and Etta James started to sing passionately in her mind while Bog moved… 

“You got me runnin', 

got me hidin' Run, hide, hide runnin' 

Any way you want it, let it roll…” 

He was wearing a pair of jeans...how did that man manage to wear jeans that made his ass look so good, or maybe it was any pair of pants because Marianne could feel heat racing all through her body, those long legs of his...the way he was somehow managing to walk down those stairs to the beat of the song playing in her head. Marianne swallowed, her eyes running down to his feet. He was wearing a pair of dark brown work boots. Why was that so damn sexy? She wondered, but her eyes traveled back up his body like a hungry animal looking at a meal...this time, no dress shirt; he was wearing an athletic fitted t-shirt which really showed off his broad shoulders, toned pecs, and flat stomach. Oh...oh he hopped down the last step and his shirt rode up just a bit...Etta growled in her ear… 

“Yeah, you got me where 

You want me now 

Baby, what you want me to do?” 

Marianne licked her damp lips. Oh she knew exactly what he looked like under the shirt...she blinked as she realized that while she was lusting after Bog he was speaking to her. 

“Marianne? Are you all right? What happened?” He gently reached over and took the bucket out of her hands glancing down to see it was full of cleaning supplies. He smiled softly, his blue eyes glancing back up to her face. “You bought these for me?” 

Marianne blinked in surprise...he seemed touched. She blushed and nodded. “Yeah. I rode my bike to the store..and there was this Great Dane puppy who chewed on my tires...and then it started to rain…” Marianne sniffled. The unfairness of it all washed over her and she started to cry like a damn baby, but she couldn't help it. “Then it started to rain on me halfway home and I had to walk by bike and the bucket was heavy and I kept having to switch to putting it on my handlebars, then carry it…” 

Bog frowned reaching out to cup the side of her face. “Why don’t we get you upstairs so you can dry off and change?” 

Marianne looked up at him. His blue eyes were filled with tender concern. Marianne couldn’t hold back, she burst into tears. “I don’t have any clean clothes! I forgot to do laundry!” 

Bog blinked in surprise at the burst of tears, but he gently put an arm around her and gathered her against his chest ignoring the cold dampness of her entire being at the moment and held her. Marianne wrapped her arms around him, let herself have a self indulgent sob (before she realized she was an ugly crier and oh shit, could this get any worse? She thought now she was a soaked rat getting snot all over his shirt! Why, why wouldn’t the earth just open up and swallow her!!) 

But Bog, holding the bucket in one hand, his other arm around her, gently stroked her damp hair. 

“Let's get you upstairs to my apartment. I can lend you some clothes and at least wash your dress for you okay?” He leaned back a little to look at her. Marianne reluctantly looked up and Bog smiled at her, his hand dropping to rest against her cheek. He wiped her tears with his thumb. 

“I’ll make you some hot tea and order the Chinese food okay?” 

Marianne nodded with a sniffle, he was sexy and kind...oh...oh her heart thumped hard as he smiled, put his arm around her shoulders and led her to the elevator instead of the stairs. She was falling so hard...damn she thought. 

* 

Half an hour later Marianne was sitting on Bog’s couch in a pair of his athletic pants, which covered her feet (she was wearing a pair of his socks too...and a pair of his boxers...squee! She thought) and even with trying to roll the pant legs up, they were too long. She had on one of his t-shirts, another athletic cut which actually fit her fairly well, if long. It was fantastic because his clothes smelled like him, a combination of clean detergent and then unidentifiable “man” smell that was...Marianne wanted to moan. He smelled so good, made her want to curl up against him with her nose plastered to his chest. She sighed, content to pull his t-shirt up over her mouth and nose and inhale his scent. 

Her hair had been toweled dry and she had a mug of warm tea in her hands. Her dress, sweater, bra, underwear and socks were all in Bog’s tiny apartment washer being cleaned. Bog was at the door paying for the Chinese food. 

She glanced over...oh, the ass. She smiled..nice she thought. 

Bog came back with a few bags, the delicious smell of crab puffs, chicken lo mein, sweet and sour pork along with shrimp fried rice and egg rolls caused her stomach to make the worst hungry growl. Marianne blushed, but Bog grinned at her. 

“You missed my stomach talking over there with the delivery guy. I'm starved and we haven’t even started cleaning anything!” he said as he sat down next to her and started to unload the bags. “I have a huge appetite, I should warn you. I’m skinny, but I can eat.” 

Marianne laughed. “Oh I see, you’re one of those guys with a great metabolism.” 

Bog shrugged. “I don’t know about great. I can pretty much eat anything, but I’m also built like a beanpole.” 

Marianne stared and thought, oh hell no, tall, lanky, with a killer ass, lickable stomach...kissable lips… 

Bog frowned. “You okay?” 

Marianne suddenly realized that she was staring at him with her mouth hanging open. She snapped it shut...damn, the click of her teeth snapping together was audible. “Yeah...I’m great.” 

Bog smiled. “I’ll go get some plates. You want silverware or the chopsticks.” 

“So that I don’t embarrass myself...silverware,” Marianne said with a smile. 

Bog laughed. “Me too.” 

* 

They ate and talked. 

Bog took a large bite of rice and chicken grinning at her as he did so. He was turned on the couch to face her, one leg bent. Marianne was turned to him as well, their bent legs pressed against each other. Marianne could almost swoon. 

“So..” Bog finished chewing. “What do you do for fun besides arson?” 

Marianne coughed as she breathed in her rice. Bog laughed. “Sorry! I’m sorry! I was teasing!” 

He reached over and grabbed her drink, a glass of iced tea and handed it to her. Marianne took a sip before she spoke. “No, no you’re fine. Well...” She sat up. “I like long walks in the rain until I look like a drowned rat…” 

Bog laughed. 

“Oh and I like to fall on my face a lot…” Marianne grinned. She really enjoyed the sound of his laugh. “But seriously… Oh, lots of things. I like to go to the movies, a concert once in a while. They do Shakespeare in the park during the summer. My sister and I go to that sometimes. I like dancing…” 

Marianne stopped. “Sorry...what about you?” 

Bog smiled. “Don’t be sorry, I asked. Me? Oh...movies, concerts, not a lot though I mostly like to draw...sit in the park on a lovely day and paint sometimes.” Bog glanced down at the takeout box in his hand. Marianne waited as he seemed to be trying to collect his thoughts or something when Bog looked up again and asked softly. “I don’t suppose you would let me draw you sometime, would you?” 

Marianne blinked in shock. “What?” 

Bog blushed bright red. “You don’t have to say anything...just...think about it. Oh and I don’t mean nude...I mean...Oh...God...I would never...just...I would love to…” Bog grimaced. “Sorry...that all sounded like a really lame pick-up line.” 

It took Marianne another couple of heartbeats to form an answer. “Yes. Yes Bog that would be...well, I’m flattered.” 

Bog smiled. Marianne blushed brighter as he looked at her. There was something in his eyes, the set of his lips as he gazed at her, his eyes wandering over her face. His blue eyes stopped, his gaze grabbing her and holding her there. 

Bog said softly, his slight accent punctuating the words in a way that his voice sent shivers along her skin. 

“I’m not good with words...but maybe I can communicate to you how I see you if I draw you…” 

That was the moment they both heard the most horrendous noise coming from the closet where Bog kept his small apartment washer and dryer. It sounded as if there were rocks in the washer. Bog stood up putting his food down. “What?” 

Marianne’s eyes widened… “Oh no,” she hissed. 

She hurried to follow Bog. They both dashed over to the washer and dryer area. Bog pulled open the door and Marianne gasped as water came flooding out from the bottom of his washer. 

Marianne groaned...why her?


	5. Strange Magic

“Shit!” Bog gasped rushing from the room to the bathroom, coming back a few seconds later with a mop. 

Bog glanced at Marianne. “There are towels in the closet in my bedroom. Would you mind?” 

Marianne nodded. “Of course!” 

She hurried down the short hall. She couldn’t believe it--her damn dressed broke his washer? A damn maxi dress!!! She muttered to herself, turning to walk into his bedroom only to stop short. She was in his bedroom, standing in the bedroom of the world's most beautiful man. She felt like she was sixteen again, turning bright red at the idea of being in a boy’s room. Her eyes moved hungrily over the room taking in every detail for late night dreaming when she was alone. He had a king size bed with, large fluffy pillows, a soft, comfortable looking comforter of heather grey and off white, the kind that made her think of snuggling on rainy days. (Her mind veered off for a moment as the image of her curled against that sexy chest of his, Bog’s arm around her while it rained outside gave her a shiver that raced over her entire body.) Her eyes moved around the walls, there were several framed pictures, all of Bog’s own work, landscapes mostly. She saw drawings of rolling hills and castle ruins...she assumed images of Scotland, though she could spot a few cityscapes, places that felt familiar, places around the city. She smiled stepping over to one of the drawings and leaned close, her nose almost touching the glass. She recognized it as from a nearby park where there sat a large fountain with a pegasus sculpture in the middle. People liked to make wishes there. Bog had drawn children playing around it, lovers holding hands and kissing...it was all so beautiful. 

She turned walked slowly toward the bedside table where a book, an unlit candle, a simple lamp, and half a roll of mints sat. Marianne slowly, almost reverently sat down. This was his side of the bed!! She ran her hand over his pillow softly before she picked it up and planted her face in the middle of it. She sighed with a smile; the pillow smelled like him. She wondered for a second if she could sneak the pillow out with her, but quickly decided that was moving into stalker territory and set the pillow back down reluctantly. 

Next, she put her fingers on the book. It was a books of poems by Liz Lochhead. She picked up the book which had a sliver of paper marking his spot. The pages of the book were well worn and when she looked in on the front cover she saw he had written his name in the book. She slowly opened it, her eyes moved over the page reading part of the poem softly out loud. 

“Trouble is not my middle name. 

It is not what I am. 

I was not born for this. 

Trouble is not a place 

though I am in it deeper than the deepest wood 

and I'd get out of it (who wouldn't?) if I could.” 

There was more, but Marianne placed the book back down. The room smelled good, the scent of vanilla candle and him, that warm manly scent that was driving her nuts. 

She heard Bog call out. “Marianne! Did you find them?” 

Marianne shook herself muttering. “God Marianne...chill...” She called out to Bog. “Yes!! Be right there!” 

Marianne jumped to her feet and rushed over to his closet pulling it open. She was immediately assaulted by that same warm masculine smell mixed with vanilla and laundry detergent. Her libido jumped up to say “Hi!” as her nipples hardened and hot blood rushed all over like a rollercoaster. She nearly swooned, her grip on the closet doors the only thing keeping her upright while her eyes raked over his wardrobe. The urge to bury her nose in his clothing almost made her forget about the towels that she saw on a couple of shelves that ran along the side of his clothes. The towels were in soft greys and dark blues. Marianne grabbed four of the towels and rushed out of the room. 

She hurried down the hall and over to Bog. “Got ‘em!!” 

Bog looked over his shoulder, turning around, his eyes widening when he saw her rushing toward him. “Marianne be care…” 

But his warning came too late. 

Marianne’s sock covered foot hit the puddle of water that had widened quite a bit from its original source. Between the water, Bog’s too big socks on her feet, and her running, Marianne flew forward, dropping the towels, her feet sliding, and her arms pinwheeling. She was sure in hindsight this would all be very comical, but right now she only had time to let out a confused sounding squeak before she crashed into Bog’s chest. Bog had turned and put his arms out to catch her, but she didn’t just fall into him; oh no, Marianne had time to think, “Not me.” Marianne slammed into Bog with the force of a speeding car (because god knew she couldn’t fall like a normal person Marianne would later groan about). When he stepped forward to help her, Bog’s feet hit the puddle and slipped out from under him when Marianne crashed into him, sending them both plunging to the floor. 

Bog’s head hit the floor with a loud thud, his glasses flying off and skittering across the floor, with Marianne sprawled on top of him. Bog’s eyes fluttered and he groaned, momentarily stunned. 

“OH MY GOD!” Marianne pushed herself up, straddling Bog’s stomach. “Oh my god, oh my god!! Bog? Bog? Can you hear me?” She waved her hand in front of his face in a panic. Bog’s eyes rolled a bit as he blinked several times. It was clear he wasn’t focusing at the moment. 

Marianne started to shake. “I killed him! Oh my god I killed him!!!...! What’d I do? What...oh, CPR!!” 

She was panicking, knowing that she was forgetting a step, but having no idea what it was that she forgetting, or supposed to do as she grabbed Bog’s face in her hands. Holding him steady she pressed her lips to his, she used her tongue to force his mouth open and blew a breath into his mouth. 

Bog blinked in confusion, his vision blurry, not from the knock to the head (though he was dizzy), but because of his missing glasses. When Marianne grabbed his face and put her mouth on his before shoving her tongue into his mouth, Bog didn’t respond at first. He was so surprised that he simply couldn’t react as Marianne blew air into his mouth. He continued to blink in confusion, not sure he understood what was going on. The wave of dizziness made him slightly nauseous, then Marianne did it again--pressing her lips against his mouth and blowing air into his mouth. 

He’s eyes widened comically when she continued to blow air into his mouth, his gaze finally focused some, enough that when she leaned close to once more blow air into his mouth, he found himself looking into Marianne’s panicked eyes, soft, golden brown eyes with little flecks of green around the iris. He blinked at her and frowned. She looked at him, but she didn’t notice his eyes were fully open or that he was mostly focused on her. He started to open his mouth to ask her what was going on when she once more pressed her lips against his mouth and blew. 

Still slightly stunned, Bog reached up to lay his hands on her waist gently, feeling just how tiny she actually was. He didn’t know how to stop her from blowing into his mouth except to respond to her lips on his by kissing her back, his tongue brushing her lips in a sweet, tender, hesitant stroke. 

Marianne was dimly aware that Bog’s tongue had caressed her lips when she tried to blow air back into his mouth. For a moment her panic at thinking she had killed him nearly had her yanking back in surprise, her eyes wide, but in the next second she realized he was all right and he was kissing her, his hands on her waist. She loosened her grip on his face, her fingers sliding into his soft hair, melting into the kiss. She cradled his head with her arms, letting herself relax into his kiss. Bog’s lips caressed hers so tenderly, so sweetly, she thought she had never experienced a more perfect kiss until this moment. She made a soft moan, leaning more fully into the kiss, nipping his lips softly, dragging her tongue along his in a sensual stroke and becoming completely lost in kissing him. Marianne felt the slide of his hands moving up from her waist, his arms going around her, holding her gently against him. She opened her eyes, sneaking a peek at him. He was so damn pretty she thought, his sharp features, long nose, thick black hair, his eyes closed as he kissed her. Marianne’s eyes slid closed once more and she heard the words of another song in her head. The music drifted through her mind, spinning slowly around while she kissed the most beautiful man in the world, and best of all, he was kissing her back. 

“You're walking meadows in my mind 

Making waves across my time 

Oh no, oh no 

I get a strange magic 

Oh, what a strange magic 

Oh, it's a strange magic 

Got a strange magic 

Got a strange magic….” 

She made another soft moan which Bog responded to with his own, the sound of his moan against her mouth made her excited; her breasts tightened and her groin tingled when she felt him shift under her and she thought, for just a moment, she felt...a bulge… 

She responded to the maybe bulge by exploring his mouth with her tongue like she was hoping to find gold. 

* 

When Griselda had arrived in front of Bog’s apartment building just a few minutes before, she was disappointed not to see Brutus at the door. She and Brutus had a little flirting thing going on, nothing serious, just a little fun, but Roy was a sweetie too, so she had waved cheerfully at him when she got out of the cab. 

Roy smiled and waved back, calling out. “Mrs. King, what a nice surprise. Bog know you’re here?” 

“Nope, he doesn’t, it’s a surprise. His birthday is next weekend so I thought I would come up and treat my boy to some good old food from home.” Griselda grinned. “I’m going to be here for the entire week! I thought that would be a great birthday surprise for him!” 

Roy laughed wondering if Bog knew he was supposed to enjoy a week long visit from his mother “Well, I’m sure he’ll enjoy it Mrs. King.” 

Griselda smiled as Roy held the door open for her. “Need help with those bags Mrs. King?” 

“No thank you Roy. I got it.” Griselda headed inside and to the elevator with a smile. 

* 

Griselda smiled happily, her arms filled with the two bags of groceries when she arrived at Bog’s door. She had gotten the idea for a surprise visit for his birthday about a month or go, after a phone call with her boy where he had sounded particularly lonely. He needed cheering up and a week of good old fashioned home cooking, and time with his mother would help, she had decided. She had actually arrived yesterday, but had decided to get herself a hotel room and enjoy a day to herself by going on a little shopping trip for a gift for her son. (She had bought him a kilt. She knew he hadn’t owned one since he was a little thing, but she thought all Scottish men should have one.) She had lunch at a fancy restaurant and treated herself to a little spa time, just enjoying some time to pamper herself. But today she had decided would be a good time to surprise her son by showing up with the making of his favorite dinner when he was a child--bangers and mash. They hadn’t spent one of his birthdays together in the last few years and she thought it would be a nice surprise. 

She had spoken to him just the other day and had said nothing about her surprise, though Bog hadn’t really given her much room to talk because he had been talking about this girl he had seen, a pixie girl with brown hair and the most perfect face he had said. Griselda smiled. Maybe she could help him with that...getting the nerve up to talk to said young lady. Her poor boy was so painfully shy. He could use the help. Besides, she wanted those grandchildren while she was still hearty enough to enjoy them! 

Griselda frowned as she waited for her son to answer the door. She had knocked, but instead of him opening the door she had been greeted by a crash from inside, then she thought she heard his voice along with another voice that it didn’t sound like Bog...or male...it had sounded like a woman. Griselda continued to frown. 

She set the bags down and reached out for the doorknob giving it a try--the door was unlocked. She walked into her son’s apartment, poking her head in and looking around when she thought she saw Bog’s legs, sprawled on the floor. 

“BOG!” His mother rushed in and stopped short when she saw a lovely young woman, in clothing far too big for her, straddling her son, kissing him...and Bog had his arms around her! 

* 

Marianne thought she heard someone yell Bog’s name, but it was hard to say if the the voice was real or not as the music continued to play in her mind while she became completely lost in the most perfect kiss… 

But then Bog pulled away. 

Marianne blinked her eyes open startled by the sudden ending of the kiss. She saw Bog look around her, his eyes narrowed as he tried to focus without his glasses, but she saw his cheeks burn bright red, the blush running to his ears. 

“Uh...hi Mam.” Bog said a little sheepishly. “What’re you doing here?” 

Mam? Marianne blinked...Mam, did he say Mam?...Ma...Mom...OH SHIT. 

She sat up and turned to see an older woman wearing a pair of jeans and a very stylish light brown sweater with light red hair and brown eyes standing there staring at them. The woman was the one from the picture...Bog’s mother. Marianne groaned inwardly. 

Marianne squeaked. “Sorry!!” 

She scrambled to get up off of Bog, standing up, but she had moved too quickly, the floor was still wet and she immediately slipped again, her arms pinwheeled as she began to pitch forward still standing over Bog. 

Bog sat up at the same time, his hands out. “Marianne careful!” 

As Marianne squealed and pitched forward, Bog tried to reach for her to catch her at the same time, but as Marianne struggled for a few tense seconds, she pitched forward. Instead of him catching her, his hands grabbed her breasts as she fell toward him, slamming right back into him, knocking him backwards again, and his head hit the floor...again. 

Marianne laid sprawled on top of him, her arms and legs splayed out like a starfish, her chest on Bog’s face, his hands on her breasts. Bog’s eyes widened in surprise despite the wave of dizziness that fell over him from hitting his head again. (He became fully aware at the same time, even though he was completely aware of this little fact, since he was drying her clothes, that she wasn’t wearing a bra under his t-shirt and now his hands were on her breasts.) His entire face turned a frightening shade of bright red, his blue eyes startled, his nose pressed between her breasts. Marianne went still, as if not moving would somehow improve the situation. She slowly looked down at the top of Bog’s head, her voice a tense whisper. “Did I kill you?” 

Bog’s voice was muffled between her breasts. “No, but I think I’m going to have one doozy of a headache.” 

That was also the moment that Marianne realized his hands were on her breasts. She was both mortified and wishing the breast grab was happening under completely different circumstances, not because she tried to break his face by falling on him again. 

Griselda was grinning watching the entire thing with delight. “So Bog, who’s your friend?” 

* 

Marianne was sitting once more on Bog’s couch, in another dry pair of his sweatpants, socks and a new t-shirt. She had her legs drawn up, her arms wrapped around her legs as she tried not to look at Griselda. The blush on her cheeks was probably bright enough to land planes. 

Griselda was grinning at her standing near the kitchen, putting the groceries she had brought with her in the refrigerator. 

“So, you work with Bog and you live in the same building?” Griselda asked casually. 

Marianne looked up and nodded. “Yes.” 

Griselda smiled. “That’s nice.” She put the bangers in the fridge. “You’re the one that did this to the kitchen?” 

Marianne cringed. “Yes.” 

Griselda nodded, pulling out a can of beans and placing it in one of the cabinets. “So...you like him?” 

Marianne frowned, slightly confused by the shift in topics, but she nodded. “Yes.” 

“Like him like him?” Griselda asked turning around to give Marianne the full weight of her stare. 

Marianne cringed a little not sure what the best answer was. “Ah...yes?” 

The older woman grinned and nodded. “I see.” 

Bog came walking back into the living room from his bedroom. His glasses were perched on the end of his nose and he was barefoot wearing a dry pair of jeans, though he had missed the top button of them, leaving it undone...and he wasn’t wearing a shirt yet; he was carrying the shirt, a dark blue button down, in his hand along with a small first aid kit. Marianne’s eyes became almost twice their normal size. Did he know what he was doing to her? Marianne didn’t think he did; she didn’t think the most beautiful man in the world had a god damn clue what he was doing to her. 

“Hey Mam, I found my first aid kit.” Bog said as he walked in, glancing over at Marianne with a smile, a soft blush across his cheeks when he looked at her. 

Marianne sucked in a breath staring at him, her eyes wandering down his torso, lingering on the top loose button of his jeans...she could just see the band of his underwear pressed against his skin, just under his stomach. Her eyes moved lower...oh wow, she thought...that had been between her legs. She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly both dry and salivating at the same time. Refusing to finish her thought, Marianne tried to look away from him, but instead her gaze followed over his shoulders as Bog stepped into the kitchen, her eyes following the twist and turns of the tattoos on his arms. Her gaze trailed the body art as Bog turned toward his mother, continued to follow the tattoo across his back, slowly sliding down his back, taking in his perfect backside, his long legs, then up again to follow the smooth line of his spine, her eyes taking in more details of the tattoo that dominated his back. Her groin chose that moment to throb with need, causing her to squirm. 

Griselda glanced over at Marianne as Bog walked over and handed his mother the first aid kit. She grinned to herself. She was no stranger to lusting after a King man and she recognized all the signs. Her heart leapt with joy! Finally! Finally, Bog had found someone...a beautiful young woman who clearly appreciated her son. Now, just to make sure he didn’t fuck it up. Well, he was lucky his Mam had arrived to save the day! 

“Bog darling, just sit down next to Marianne and we’ll look at your head.” Griselda pointed with the kit at the couch. 

Bog walked over, smiling shyly at Marianne and sat down next to her. Marianne scooted over to make room for him. (Why’d he have to smell so good she thought!!) He reached out and lightly touched her cheek. “You okay?” he asked with such concern in his eyes that Marianne felt even worse for what she had done to him. 

“Bog, I’m fine. You are the one who hit your head twice...because of me.” Marianne sighed. “I should probably go before I find a way to cause a tornado or an earthquake.” She started to get up, but Bog put his hand on her arm. “Please don’t,” Bog said gently. 

Marianne stared at him like he had grown a second head. Bog winced as his mother, sitting behind him, proved his head with her fingertips. 

Griselda let out a whistle. “You got a nice little goose egg back here, but there’s only a small cut there.” She put some first aid cream on some gauze and gently wiped at it. Bog hissed softly as he squinted his eyes. 

Griselda looked over the top of Bog’s head. “Can you get some ice for his head, dear?” she asked Marianne. 

Marianne looked at Bog with a slight frown on her face. She couldn’t believe she had hurt him and he still wanted her to stay?! His hand lingered on her arm as she stood and stepped into the kitchen. She looked around for a dish towel in one of the drawers, pulled a few pieces of ice from the freezer, wrapping them up in the towel, and carried it back over to Bog and his mother. 

Griselda pointed to the lump on the back of Bog’s head. “Just apply it there. If you could hold it there I would appreciate it, as I’m sure Bog would too.” Griselda stood up picking up the slightly bloody gauze and first aid kit. 

She patted Marianne’s shoulder. “He’ll be fine. Couple of aspirin and some food. That boy is hard headed, believe me. I raised him.” 

Bog groaned with embarrassment. “Mam!” 

Griselda chuckled. 

Marianne sat down behind Bog, holding the ice pack to his head, her gaze lingering over his tattooed back. She so much wanted to caress his shoulders and let her fingers trace down his spine, but she controlled herself. Marianne smiled a little. Look at her, the pinnacle of control! 

They were both quiet, neither knowing what to say. 

After a moment, Marianne whispered softly. “I’m sorry.” 

Bog frowned. He wanted to turn around, but he didn’t. He was embarrassed he had kissed her like that, but boy, it had been a nearly perfect kiss...would have been except for the raging headache he had. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Marianne--it was an accident. I’m sorry.” 

Marianne looked confused, tilting her head to the side to look at the side of his face. “For what?” 

Bog swallowed and looked down at his hands; his long fingers were twisted around each other. “For ah...kissing you like that...and ah...when you fell and…” His cheeks burned bright. “When I accidentally grabbed...ah, your…” 

Marianne blushed. “That was an accident…” 

“Still…” Bog said softly. “I’m sorry.” 

They were both quiet again, neither noticing that Griselda still hadn’t returned from putting away the first aid kit. 

Bog rubbed his hands over his thighs nervously. “So...ah...would you want to...to try again?” 

“Try again?” Marianne asked, adjusting her hold on the makeshift ice pack. 

Bog licked his lips nervously. “Ah...cleaning the apartment…” He cringed in disappointment at himself. He had wanted to ask her to dinner, to take her out on a real date. He wanted to walk with her on his arm and kiss her, really kiss her in the moonlight. Silly romantic things he knew, but Marianne was the first woman to come into his life in a long time that made him feel anything remotely romantic. He squeezed his eyes shut. He had messed this up. His shoulders sagged. He was such an idiot. 

Marianne frowned. She wasn’t sure what she had been hoping for, but the fact that he still wanted to see her at all amazed her. 

“You sure you want to be in the same room with me? I got dog doo on you, broke your stove, and microwave, tried to burn your apartment, broke your washer, and tried to make you sterile.” 

Marianne frowned and added, “I wouldn’t want me anywhere near me.” 

Bog chuckled softly. “Maybe…” 

He frowned nervously when his mother suddenly entered the room. (She had been hanging back, letting them talk until she realized they were not going to get anywhere at this rate, not without a nudge, maybe a good shove even.) 

“Marianne, how would you like to go out to dinner with Bog and me?” Griselda asked with a smile. 

Marianne and Bog both looked startled. Marianne cringed. “I...I...ah can’t. I don’t have any clean clothes, I need to do laundry…” 

Griselda snorted. “Please, don’t worry my dear. Just give me your size and I’ll pick something up for you and have it dropped off at your apartment.” 

Marianne gasped, jumping a little. The ice pack she was holding to move across Bog’s head. He winced and hissed. “Ouch.” 

Marianne frowned. “Sorry,” she said before she turned her attention back to Griselda. “Oh, I simply couldn’t accept a gift!” 

Griselda glanced at Bog who was giving his mother a grateful smile. “Nonsense dear. If you like, we can head out together and you can pick something out.” 

That made Bog stiffen, his happy smile turning into a grimace of terror. He tried to give his mother a small shake of his head in the negative telling her, “No, please don’t do this to me because I like this girl,” by giving her a glare and pursing his lips together. “Mam…” 

Griselda laughed, waving her son’s worries off. “We won’t be gone long. Besides, I would love to get to know one of your co-workers dear, and poor Marianne clearly needs a new outfit. It’ll give us a chance for some girl talk. Then this evening we can go out for a nice dinner, my treat.” The older woman grinned. “Now, Marianne, why don’t you go grab some shoes…” 

Marianne interrupted her. “Ah...I can’t go out like this…” 

Griselda was on a roll. “Oh nonsense.” 

Bog opened his mouth to speak, but Griselda bulldozed over them both. “I’ll call us a cab and we can be off. Bog, make sure you find something nice in your clothes for dinner. No jeans,” she warned. 

Marianne didn’t move for a moment, her hand still pressing the ice to Bog’s head, but Griselda clapped her hands. “Come on Marianne! This will be fun!”


End file.
